Parole didn't call all week. Have a dark, bad feeling my boss talked shit about me to them and/or ignored their calls all week. His phone rang off the hook and no one has his number. I can't even begin to describe how fucking backstabby that would be in the face of them having not promoted me but continuing to give me all the work.
So today I lost it. Had the KFC "Bowl of Failure" as Yogapants calls it for lunch. Avoided talking to anyone all day. Stopped at the store to buy toothpaste after work. Ended up with vodka and Pringles. Snapped at the checkout girl to move the fucking conveyor belt so that my vodka would move so that I could bag it myself because it's one of those We're Too Shitty to Bag Your Shit places, ate an entire can of Pringles on the way home, and now I'm going to drink.
When I was a kid on the other side of the counter, I would wait on the haggard, fat, alcoholic men and women that came in after they were released from work. And all I could think was that they didn't understand me, look at what they put me through, they have no idea how I felt having to stand there and take people's shit all day, why are they so mean to me?
Well now I am the fat, haggard, alcoholic on the other side of the counter, and I do understand. I understand both sides. And I'm sorry for snapping at you check out chick. I truly am. I can only hope you might understand me.