Eight hours of work!

Okay, the work is, in fact, sitting at the front desk doing, basically, nothing. And eight hours is pretty much a standard work day. But, when you are supposed to work two hours, quadrupling your workload, without a break isn't all that fantastic. Especially when two of those hours are taken because the guy who's supposed to relieve you just doesn't show. Covering for a friend, because he's sick, I'll do gladly. Covering for an acquaintance who asks me two hours in advance, well, why not? But when Tony is too busy getting high to remember to come to the desk, well, I'm done with calling him so he can show up a half-hour late. I do it every week. I'm done. His hours are mine now. It's the simplest job in the world: you just have to show up on time and sit there! No talent necessary! And he can't do it! Oh, the irritation I feel! But, the money I make, also, so it all evens out.

So, sorry about the complaining. Tomorrow (today) I go see Avenue Q on Broadway. So, that will be fun. And then there will be a fun post! Hooray!