It's late, I'm tired, and while I'm certain there are things I could write about, I'm in no fit shape to do it. I'm tired.
I'm tired, and I'm just now going into my weekend. And when I say "my weekend," I'm not referring to those two days in a row that I get to not work like everyone else. No, my weekend in this instance is my Saturday and Sunday shifts.
I don't like working Sunday. I'll get that out of the way now. I really hate it. Sunday means brunch, and I just hate it. I don't want to do it anymore. Actually, I'd be happy with just every other Sunday off, but that's been impossible for too long.
For too long we had cooks that weren't available Sunday's for valid reasons, one only had his kids on the weekend, and one was in a halfway house and only had Sundays as a relatively free day. But there are the other cooks that can work Sundays that do sometimes get one off but aren't at the level one needs to be to be able to work certain stations.
And it's not that they can't. I know they can, but no one has wanted to, and because I'm a sort of pushover sometimes I've been doing it with little complaint.
Actually there's lots of complaint Sunday. I wage war on people's aural senses with my bitching, but I also make them great eggs and frittatas, so they can't really complain.
Sunday would be less hellish if I didn't have to be there at eight in the morning, and that would be slightly less onerous if I didn't just leave the damn place at ten the night before. My usual Saturday shift is noon to ten with usually about an hour break somewhere near the middle.
Last Saturday I rode from downtown to another part of town to get my fancy tobaccy, and with plenty of time left in my hour circled a small section of downtown blocks for a few minutes. There's your obligatory bicycle reference. Actually, I plan on spending my next Saturday break riding to the downtown library. Now that I'm paid up with them I can once again raid the wonderful cd collection.
So, yeah, my weekend, which is your weekend, sees me working noon to ten Saturday and eight to sometime between three and four Sunday. And those can be the busiest shifts of our week. And as you can see I really do need to get to bed. There has to be something else to write about, but honestly my brain has turned itself off to prepare for my Sat/Sun overload.