It's donned on me, well not really because I've always known it, but I really hate my job. I seriously think at some point i need to go Tyler Durden on someone's ass.

What's worse it's the Christmas season. Nothing is worse than retail at Christmas. I can say the only positive thing I can take away is, knowing what it's like, and trying not to be the same kind of jerk, that most customers I have encounter are.

I was trying to do some shopping after my 9 hours at work and some customer recognized me from earlier. So they come up to me and they ask me a million questions about products and where things are. Now I have a uniform when i work and now I didn't, I was in my out of work clothes and this guy kept bothering me while I had all my stuff I was going to buy in my hand. It ticked me off and perhaps this is bad thing even if I am off but I just walked away and said I'm not working right now and if they needed something that they should find someone that is. The guy swore at me and told me "You Fucker" Now I actually thought about stopping and coming back at this guy for his comment but I just went on my way. I think even if I had come back at the guy somehow this guy could make my life hell and even if I was off he'd find some way to get me in trouble for any retaliation. To be honest I was already tired and had, had enough of people's shit.

I felt like just going up to the guy, and asking where he worked and what time he got off and pester him about things related to his job after he got off. In the end I ignored the guy because he was the fucker and I knew that I didn't have to tell him he was the fucker because in his eyes, he'd never think of himself that way. It would be pointless and a waste of energy. I was tired so I kept going so I could come home put some 11:00pm dinner on and type this diary while I wait for it to finish cooking.

One other work related rant. I had this woman come up to me, and point to this toy, and asked, "How much" I replied $12.88. She answered dumbfoundly "no understand." Apparently this woman didn't understand English words or numbers. I thought to myself, what a fucking moron, why ask me a question when the answer is also in a term you can't understand. I tried One-two-eight-eight. Sure it sucks that she doesn't speak good english or very little, but why ask me how much when I am most likely to answer with American spoken numbers??? Pisses me off. I worry that one day I may just snap. The only thing i can do is try to focus on the fact that I will only be working ther 2 and half months more.

Ok dinner is ready. Nite!