Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.


No, really. I was just fired for the first time in my life.

I guess it's good that I made it to 29.

The other day, I asked for today off so I could hang out with Sam the one day he's in town. They said no.

I made the executive decision to call in and tell them that I'm really sorry, I will owe them a shift or whatever, but my brother is one of my best friends and I'm not going to wait tables tonight instead of seeing him. I support the restaurant, but it's not mine, and I'm working to make my life into what I want it to be.

I understand why they're mad, and perhaps firing me was the right decision.

Seeing Sam was the right decision for me.

The job was wearing me down. I've been crying. A lot. I've been freaking out. A lot. I've been ignoring my dogs, barely seeing my boyfriend, and soaking my feet in cold water.

The other night another server and I came to the conclusion that while I might eventually be able to take fewer shifts, they would probably still last ten hours. At that point, I was seriously considering leaving the job anyway (in a mature, two weeks notice manner). I didn't leave one job that wasn't taking me where I wanted to go just to get another. Fifteen, twenty hours a week, I was absolutely in for. Forty? I might as well have stayed at my old job and kept that fancy salary I remember so fondly.



I'm so embarrassed. Who the hell gets fired?


dream emma is like regular emma with a middle name of danger

whistle while you work