The Ripped Soul

So much stuff to blog, don't know where to start.

Work's a pain. I'm in pain. My body's aching like a bzzzch. Some guys are nice, some.. not so much. And yesterday's event we had to work with The Hopeless Crusaders.

Nice knowing I still have that trait on me.. where I'm reliable, and people know they can count on me. Even the chinese cook saw it. He was telling one of the new guys that came to help with the event : "This one you can count on. She damn ON one."

True enough. Fella didn't even know where the olive oil was. And he could look at me and say "the olive oil finish already."

GO AND REFILL IT THEN OMGGGGGGGG D:

I did it anyway. Even though I had 95176 other things to do.

Felt like I was running everywhere. From winebar to courtyard to kingdom fucking come.

And just when I thought maybe I could come home in peace, I had to find out the hard way that they came back from their holiday.

I reached home at 3:30am, and she was at the door.

"WAH YOU COME HOME SO LATE AH?"

Sometimes I wish we were related so I can just tell her to shut the fuck up and die or something.

But we aren't. So I didn't. I just plain ignored the comment and went strrrrrrraight to my mom's room to unpack and relax.

I don't get it.

It's not like I make this kinda small talk when they come home from work. I don't go asking "how's work today?" or "Whoa, that's late. Ended late today?"

I don't do that shit.

So why do they do it to me?