Deja Vu, anyone?

Well here I am again, stuck inside in front of a computer screen, alone, staring out at the rain pound down.

I'm alone because that butt-plug Sean didn't show...Again. Come on dude, I live twenty minutes away and you live within fifteen minutes walking distance. Something wrong here. I don't even care, I know he's being put down Tuesday, so I'm none too worried. Almost relaxed, it's nice not to have a thirty four year old loser who looks like he's fifty and makes the same as me here.

Putting that faggot out of my mind, it's such a stupid day to work. When it rains it's like the place in Fight Club, the roof leaks in at least four different places so I've got buckets set up around the store. God knows why, the floor could be covered in ice and it wouldn't make a difference. I've been here three hours and made twenty measly bucks. Not even close to my wage for that amount of time. Now factor in the hydro bills, cost of wear and tear on the equipment, (the generators have to be put outside and it's pouring rain, they rust in rain..) and my wages? The owners clearly have no common sense and are losing one hell of a lot of money to be open seven days a week.

It's like everything the employees say means nothing. We complain about wages, they organize a training meeting so we'll sell more stuff. We phone next door about our purchase orders for paint, hose, and engine parts, we get cut off from buying anything. We get angry phone calls about Yanmar engine parts that haven't been in for weeks, they reduce our budget for Yanmar and continue to stall paying bills.

Again, in the grand scheme of this company, I am nothing; but that doesn't mean that I can't tell this place is going into a spiral. How can we sell anything when our shelves have so many holes in them? Now that we're not allowed to order anything unless it's special order, more than 90% of my time goes down the drain. When I'm not sending stuff out or receiving stuff, I'm making lists of what we need or helping customers. Now that we're not ordering, I won't be making lists. Now that we're not going to be receiving stock, how can I possibly receive? As a shipper, it's such a nightmare. My options for things to do in the day now consist of trying to look busier then Dan who's jerking off looking for work until Kevin comes by, at which point he drags up a purchase order or something else, or try and organize the mound of stuff sitting in the corners with no tags or place to go.

What a clusterfuck. No wonder everyone comes in here mad, this place is run by a (Supposedly, this is just here say,) a cocaine user who walks his dog more then he spends time in the office. Whoopee. I'd be pissed too, coming in and talking to a smartass nineteen year old who knows jack fucking all about resins and epoxies for a steel boat that the gelcoat is starting to blister on, or what kind of paint a 1975 wooden dinghy needs after it's already had Hempalin for twenty years on but now wants to switch to an ablative paint.

I've got to wonder how long this place has before it goes under. Until then I've got to try and learn something from all this, or at least steal a flare gun and some flares. What a life.

Carey backed out on moving out. Now I'm really stuck. Anyone want a roommate?