To have good days, you must have bad days...

Hokay, the events of yesterday were as such:

1) i get a letter from the Blood Center i recently donated to, the place that, in writing, told me they would not bother contacting me unless something was wrong (found HIV, hepatitis, etc) with my donation.
So i understandably freak out and tear the letter open while sweating and cursing the postal service.
Apparently i have low cholesterol. Congratulations to me.

2) get to work. a prissy employee confronts me about something i still have no clue about and pretty much bullies me into giving up a good station. as any who have been waiters know, a good station means more money. I am passive enough not to want any drama at work so i just blow it off, but the event pretty much sets the precedence for the remainder of the work day.

3) *MAXI PAD* found by table 69.
yeeeup. thats what i said. i walked by it a couple times thinking it was a piece of paper, but the shape of it kept scaring me. and no one else would touch it, so im the one that ended up getting rid of it while the fat nasty ghetto whores at the table looked at me like they knew nothing of it, when in actuality it probably fell out of one of thier huge purses and they were too embarrassed to pick it up. cunts.

4) Spilled honey mustard all over myself and my busboy in front of customers.

5) Lost $25 of my tips from a mistake by the manager (cunt) and spent ten minutes digging through the garbage to recover a lost giftcard that might help me get that money back.

So....my thoughts are, in order to have really good days, there must be something to compare them to that makes them really good. so there. sigh.

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