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This day can eat all of Jared Leto’s dick.

A screenshot from the music video to “From Yesterday” by 30 Second’s to Mars.

The last couple weeks haven’t been that great—physically or mentally.

This week started off with the news that my Dad’s dog, who I affectionately called “Little Brother”, was put to sleep due to on-going and worsening health problems. It was really for the best as Leonard was suffering even with medical help, but I don’t do great with the death of loved ones.

I’ve been dealing with a couple physical issues that last couple of weeks that I’ve been putting on the back burner thinking they would resolve on their own. The pain in my side has gotten worse and I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Plus, my anxiety or depression medications had been making me so sick that I couldn’t stand to take them anymore and have been off them for a couple weeks—I’m no longer nauseous as fuck, but my anxiety and depression are through the roof and that’s not good, especially with the anxiety-inducing holidays coming up. Unfortunately, my regular doctor is booked until November and I had to schedule with a different doctor for the time being just so I could get checked out instead of putting it off longer than I already have. Getting seen by a total stranger rather than someone I built up a lot of trust with was absolutely nerve wracking, but my doctor’s office referred her and she was very nice and understanding. We came up with a couple plans that will hopefully resolve these issues and I scheduled up a follow up with my regular doctor. But (and no pun intended here) she may have been right about having a several weeks old “intestinal blockage” (if you catch my drift) and the over the counter medications she recommended may be doing their job at moving things along because now my whole lower abdomen feels like it got slashed by Freddy Krueger. This is probably the closest I’ll ever get to experiencing contractions and knowing that actual birth is likely more painful than this…well, its pretty understandable why I have tokophobia.

But the worst part of my week thus far was Annual Inventory Day for the store, which meant management was cranky as fuck as was trying to rip everyone a new asshole for several days leading up to inventory. For example, the day before inventory, I tried talking to management about the appointment I had scheduled and before I could ask if it was possible to work a later shift that day she snapped at me about using my sick leave instead. Soooooo….I took the whole day off instead of shifting my shifts a couple hours because management was too pissy to want to work out my schedule with me.

I had been given the impression that the areas I work in were also having their quarterly inventory. (Fresh areas have inventory every quarter due to the perishable nature of our products). Management was really coming down on everyone to get our freight worked, labeled, and binned because “it’s inventory tomorrow!!!!!” I spent a lot of time in the freezer getting things worked, organizing everything, and fixing issues I knew management would have a fit about because I was under the impression that it couldn’t wait until the next day because of inventory. Imagine my surprise when I came into work today and found Fresh was exempt from inventory.

I was also scheduled two hours of door duty. At this point, its little more than sanitizing carts customers bring because they can’t be bothered to put it in a cart corral and separate carts since customers can’t seem to grab a single cart off the rack without touching the three carts behind it. During door duty, I end up having an anxiety attack—fast breathing, chest tightness, slight shakiness, that feeling of dread that makes me want to run if I could.

…and then my mother came into the store. The sight of her triggers my anxiety. Since I was already having an anxiety attack when it happened, my anxiety essentially went Super Saiyan.

To top it all off, the person who was supposed to relieve me of door duties never came and waited over 20 minutes before management was able to get someone to take over.

After my mother had waltzed her undeserving self into the store and my anxiety levels went over 9000, I somehow managed to quickly text a friend I know from the convention I go to every year. We have an inside joke about reminding each other of the song “From Yesterday” from 30 Seconds to Mars—it’s essentially our version of a Rick Roll.

Therefore, I texted her, “This day can go eat all of Jared Leto’s dick.”

Honestly this whole week can eat Jared Leto’s dick.  

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