Dogs barkin', bitches not be broke, got 99 problems but bitchin' ain't one.

So yeah, rough night. Good night, but a rough one.

Trying, vainly, it seems, to get not only caught up, not only make the extra things that will become Christmas gifts for friends and family, but make things for the shop and Omoi. Soundtrack to this: 'you understand, we're fighting a war we can't win'. At this point, I'm so fried I can't even remember the frigging name of the song. Grr.

This on top of working during the super, duper, ultra deluxe busy time of the year. What we rang tonight, in the amount of time we actually *worked* averaged out to 2 sales every 60 seconds. EACH. Including 'hello, how ya doing?' and waiting for the order, fixing the drinks, taking money, making change and saying 'thanks'. Yikes! No wonder I'm so fried I feel downright retarded.

I can't even keep 2 cohesive thoughts together in my head long enough to type them out - and I can actually type. So I'ma gonna just say nighty-night for now.

Maybe more tomorrow, maybe not. Got another 50 million things to do before work on Friday

F-R-A-Z-Z-L-E-D

^ ^
| |


As promised, roughly $80 worth of zippers. Doesn't look all that impressive. What isn't clearly visible is that this heap is almost 6 inches high.


Yah, so ah ...

I think I'm down to roughly 10 or so orders. Yesterday was a marathon 13 hour session.

As such, tonight I'm rewarding myself by seeing Mr. Wolf Bait's band. Should be ... interesting. Haven't set foot in the bar since I quit 5 weeks ago. Still haven't talked to boss. Guess I'll be doing both in a few hours ...