I am seriously thinking about making this my last weekend here at Madstone. I don't know why, but I am just tired of it all. Not the people, for the most part, but I am just pissed off. I mean I can't exactly put my hand on it, but there's something about something that erks me. I had a great day at Wilson's by the way. I looked sooo good. Damn. wow. I surprised myself. I don't want to work tonight, but I must. Hell, I'm not even doing my fucking rightful job, the one I've had since day 1, concierge. They tell me when I get here, that I am doing concessions. Oh hell no. I was under the impression that I was working concierge, until like 8 or something, then Christie and I switching. Nope. Well anyways, I don't plan on doing a damn thing. Maybe I really shouldn't write this, considering Erica (one if the manager's) reads this. I don't know who else does, but right now, I don't care. I'm entitled to be pissed off, right? why not? I mean this may not even be a big deal, but I am making it one. Oh yeah, and there's a meeting tomorrow morning! what the fuck! see USUALLY the meetings are posted on the corkboard where everyone sees it. This was written on the white board, not too conspicously. Oh hell. Someone should have told me. I remember things like meetings when people actually SAY something. Shit. I have to work at Wilson's! I don't respect. Man. It's amazing how such a grrreat day can be ruined. I even had a kick ass dream last night. I'll tell about that when I get home, and am in a better mood. Time better fly by tonight. That's all I have to say. The end. Shit.