Totally spoke too soon.

So today I got the trade-off from yesterday. I had to take everyone at my register, as the GM register was being ripped out. So awful. Sweatshirt after t-shirt after shotglass. Over and over.

Two things redeemed the day. One was that a cute old man we just adore (he wears a "Beat Bush!" pin and suspenders) gave me cookies from the new pastry shop across the street. How adorable.

The second was that tonight was veronicamarsveronicamarsveronicamarsveronicamars. And I looooove me some Veronica Mars. Especially Veronica Mars accompanied with a black bean burrito and fresh guacamole. Extra cheddar please.

I do have to admit that I was at my bitchiest today, and I'm not proud of it. (I may have bordered on whining at one or two points, actually.) But my cashwrap reconfiguration bothers me to no end and everything is a freaking mess. I hate messes. Things are falling all over the place, I can't even walk into my closet (my most sacred of spaces!), and I did I mention it's a mess?

I do like new, clean carpets, though. Those are nice.

Toward the end of the night, all the clothing was moved onto the tile in front of the magazines. A girl walked up and said, in a very irritated voice, "UM, is there anywhere ELSE to buy magazines?"
"Well, there's a couple of convenience stores in the square." She looked really pissed and I asked if something was wrong.
"What's wrong is that for some reason they've stored clothing in front of the magazines!"
"Well," I said, diplomatically, "we're clearly undergoing renovations and they needed to keep them off the carpet."
"WELL," she said back, "it's not CLEAR, it's just INCONVENIENT."
Whoa. She certainly put me in my place! Cause I HAVEN'T HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS INCONVENIENCE ALL FUCKING DAY. And it is clear, bitchface, if you have a set of eyes and a shred of common sense. Sheesh.

(This is the part where I start throwing things. Or at least kick one of the numerous copies of "Son of a Witch" that keep falling off the shelf.)

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