Idiot - Population: Me.
In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't too hideously awful. I play register jockey for two hours until Janice came on, then went to the Softside to attempt to do Recovery until my break and managed to square away both Duvets and Bedding, with part of Print Bedding, in between customers. The only bad part was the fact that I was afraid I'd lose my lunch. Of which I had had none, but the threat was there just the same.
It was a huge relief when Nancy called me to take my thirty. I bought a tin of Altoids and scurried off to have a lunch of those and Mixed Berry yougart. Which wound my poor abused stomach up. So, off I creep, only to have the Ladies' Room door pounded on about two minutes later. "Lois, it's 'Nissa! You may want to take this!"
*Groan* How do I just know my evening's about to get worse?
I come barreling out of the Ladies' at speed, in spite of my stomach to hear...
"I'm Going To The ER"
Well, my friends this is absolutely the capper to the day. The capper. My day had absolutely crashed and burned and it was only eight o'clock. And by the time I got off the phone, my break was over and it was time to Do Freight, my absolutely favorite thing in the entire world. Though, thankfully, everyone (except Nancy and Annelise, who never doubted my being sick) seemed to realize I really was hurting and the ice seemed to thaw. Even PJ, who had been hurting that evening and probably wanted nothing to do with any of us, was sweet to me from there on out.
Me, I just wanted to take some pain-pills, finish The Freight, and go home. Needless to say, the rest of the night was a worried, pain-stricken blur. I remember doing the poles with Brian, I remember three sharkcages that I cleared spotless, I remember having the Evening Huddle in there somewhere. I really remember that we ordered an insane amount of Window Treatment Hardware (my all-time favorite department, folks! Bar none. Yippee! *rolls eyes*) But not much else. ZombieLois was in fine form by the end of the shift. Only ZombieLois doesn't usually hurt. She just...is.
I guess it goes without saying that Anissa lived, seeing as how she wrote a LJ entry far more amusing than mine. And I'm not due back in until Sunday. Thank God. Maybe everything will work out better next week. *rolls eyes heavenward*
One can only hope.
P.S. We're both home today, so maybe finishing off this chappie will cheer us both up. *hugs her entire F-list for putting up with the whiney and Jor-El-like clone of the Author this week.*