07/10/2003 - 11:13 p.m. | everything sticks like a broken record

I'm not sure if you know this, but I'm filled with a lot more rage than you'd expect. Most of the time I can just let things slide and stay meek, but somedays I find myself having to make a conscious effort to keep myself from flipping out and needlessly smashing things.

Today, for example.

OK, so over and over again, I've said I'm a good welder. Probably the best welder there right now. Almost definitely, in fact. The only other thing to do besides weld right now is wind. I suck shit at winding. I am the worst winder; I consistently break machines. So, logical course of action: Nate welds, Doughboy and Travo wind. BUT I DO NOT RESIDE IN A WORLD OF LOGIC. I live in a world ruled by lizard kings and insane old men, all of whom smell. So, for no good reason at all (Snake King only mumbled something about "not wanting me to forget how"), I got stuck on the winder all day while Travo welded. Do you know how worthless that is? They're all worried about shipments and stuff so they stick everyone in a position so that less can be produced. It - it blows my mind. It's unbelievable.

So, I'm winding all day, and I'm sucking, and I keep breaking the machines and ruining tomato pens, and Snake King is fucking making fun of me! AHHHH! He makes fun of me for sucking so bad, and then he keeps having me do it! It's like they're specifically trying to create hell for me! And then Harve comes over. OK, he comes over for 2 reasons: 1) to tell me to put on safety glasses or 2) to passive-aggressively yell at me about something. So, he says hello and then goes, "You really should put on some glasses." Phew - safe. I'll pop on a pair for 10 minutes, "lose" them, and then I'll be good again. Then he adds, "Do you think you could come in on Saturday?" ARG WHAT THE FUCK I spend 5 days of my week there. It exhausts me; hell, it practically kills me. I need time to recuperate, and it's not like last time where I actually (God forbid) took a day off. They just want me to work more without overtime or anything. So, I say (and I really can't properly express my curtness level here), "If you want." And he's like, "Yeah, you can come in and make some money and help us out a bit!" Like he's doing me some sort of favor. Do you know why I have to go in to work extra? Do you know the real reason? Because of idiotic plans like the one they come up with today!! "Oh no, Troy didn't weld enough, and Nate didn't wind enough because they're useless. Let's make them work more." I was fuming all day. I'm OK enough on the outside, but pretty much the rest of my time was spent mumbling swears.

And here's another good one! Reminds me of how in the first week of band at IMSA, Mr. Deitemeyer told me I had been holding my trombone wrong for 5 years. So, as I said, I kept breaking the machines (think I have some sort of Carrie thing going on), and Snake King finally says to me, "Oh - you're not supposed to put pressure on the handle once it starts winding." [I'm so angry at this point that nothing I can type will suffice. Imagine me throwing a TV down the stairs] So, he teaches me to do it one way, lets me continue do it this one way for God knows how long, and finally only corrects me today. And then he acts like it was my fault, and I should've known the whole time! I really wanted to say something along the lines of, "Guess I just had a bad teacher," but I held my tongue. Mumbled more swears to myself. Not getting an ulcer. On the plus side, now that I know how to do it correctly, I can wind faster and with fewer errors. Still, the rage. The rage.

Yesterday, I was gonna mail some of the cookies I made on Tuesday to Vanessa at camp, but I didn't want them to get all melty, so I took the bag of them into the breakroom. Today, while Snake King was trying to repair the winder once again, he was like, "Why don't you go have an Oreo or something? Oh - was that your big bag of cookies in here yesterday?" Yes. "Better not eat that whole thing! You'll get millions of zits!" ...... Actually, sir, dermatologists have found that chocolate really doesn't affect acne one way or the oth - wait! That asshole! Seriously. No respect. And I can't say a word.

Work went by pretty fast, considering. Then again, I made like $30 less than normal. Came home, read, slept, and watched E.T. Man, what an adorable movie! The whole drunken frog release scene is great. I kept giggling like an idiot. See, I'm not always full of pissiness. Today was just an especially awful day. I would say, "Only one more left!" but apparently that isn't true anymore. I'll just go string myself from the rafters tomorrow. Or start violently vomitting everywhere.