fightingthecage | like knitting needles, trying to peck your head

Oh fuck off work. And more specifically, fuck off you PIECE OF SHITE managers who haven't got a clue and treat us like dirt. No, seriously. How fucking dare you? Yes, its graduation week. Yes, we all knew we were going to be busy. But having one of the bargirls walk in at half past two this afternoon, just as we were about to shut the kitchen down, and tell us, 'One of you is going to have to stay around because we're open all day'...well, when the fuck were you going to tell us?

No, that's right. You'd only just made your mind up because you realised that you'd prefer the trade. Never mind that we all have lives and have made plans and appointments for the middle of the day in the only two hours we get off. No, its fine! We'll all just work 10:30am to 10pm without a break and with no warning whatsoever off you because you couldn't plan ahead if the fate of the entire world rested on it, you assholes. Never mind that you've scheduled everyone's hours this week as if it were a normal week, and have now fucked everything up by keeping us open all day. YOU ARE CRAP! And don't even dare to say like you're busy and overlooked it - you've been sitting on your arses ALL FUCKING DAY and haven't lifted a finger to help, even though you've scheduled yourselves to work and will cold-bloodedly pretend that you've been rushed off your feet all day. TWATS! More than five minutes notice of the change in schedule would be appreciates. Even mentioning it yesterday would have been OK. But five minutes before the end of shift? (*&"(&*$@(*&£"("##"!!!! *FUMES*

OK, I'm done. But I do need to find an icon that accurately conveys mind-bending fury.