I have no way yet — I haven’t had time to rationalize it to myself — to explain the anger I feel towards my current place of employment, Empire Theatres, since I’ve returned to work these past few weeks. It might have to do with the unnecessary (I think) changes to rules, protocols, management, systematic things, etc. etc. But regardless, it seems that every night I walk into work I have this pent-up sense of almost brain-bursting rage at the way they run things these days.
I am an incompetent child, not worth trusting with more than menial tasks. I sometimes succumb to this supposition when I’m plainly fed up with the lack of trust I receive from Empire’s management. I try not to let it show. I try to be nice to customers, managers, staff. I try to show them I’m more than just another broomstick on the floor. It doesn’t work, I don’t think.
I’ve got more to say than this, but I’m just kind of miffed right now from getting hit in the eye with a popcorn kernel that shot out of the popper last night.
And I’m starting to suspect that the place is making me mindless. I’m not thinking, I’m not writing too much, and I’m definitely not sleeping enough.
Work in 5 hours. Guess I better try to get some rest.