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Expectations Are a Bad Thing

I went to work last night under the assumption that there was at least a reasonable chance of being sent home at midnight. As a result, I tried to get things done up front as quickly as possible, leading to pretty much everything being done after midnight. The floor had just been scrubbed and mopped, while everything else that normally gets done between 8 and 11 was complete, so the only things really remaining to be done were transferring all of the hot food to bagged pans, and at some point after 1, cleaning the fry dump. Upon finishing the floor, I asked James if he wanted me to stay. He mumbled a response which I couldn't make out, and then there were a couple orders, so he and I made those, while I was all anxious about actually hearing what he said. Once those customers were taken care of, all three of us stood up at the front counter, having nothing better to do, and Tom asked roughly the same question I had. James once again mumbled a reply, but I didn't hear it, then Tom said that at least he did his part, and that was about all. ~12:10 turned into 12:30, which turned into 1:00, and by that point, I was thoroughly pissed off. I stayed up front and made orders as customers came in, but what did James do? Walked around to do counts, and then started on some prep work. I was in no way even close to being in a good mood, so I just went about with a frown for the rest of the night, loudly complaining about the customers, and after closing, we had everything done and were out by ~3:30. James was on his bike and I was walking as we went home again, in the rain that time. Before we closed, I was seriously thinking about telling him I wasn't in the mood to talk on the way home, so he could go off on his own (once we left, that is), but per usual, as the end of the night drifted ever closer, those other points of anger seemed to just slowly vanish. While we were waiting for James to set the alarm, Tom asked if I had wanted to go home early, and I told him yes, adding that it didn't really matter anymore, as it was too late to do anything about it then. He pointed out that I would still have that opportunity next weekend, and I thought over it for a moment, before deciding (and telling him) that it wasn't quite the same, because going home early next weekend is planned. The last time I can recall being done early when I was scheduled to stay later was... on that day I worked a supper shift when the rest of my family was out of town, and I wasn't feeling well. Seems like quite a while ago.

Needless to say, it was a thoroughly enjoyable night, and in a way, I'm kind of glad Laura closes tomorrow, so I'll have a bit of a break from James. I also need to consider (and possibly get ahold of Tom) switching shifts with Tom next weekend. I don't mind being done at midnight on Friday, but I'd rather close on Friday normally, then have an early shift on Saturday, so as to break up the weekend slightly. Maybe I mentioned that before, but I didn't mention it until James and I were on the way home last night. I need to get going now though. Would like to arrive somewhat early, because Brandon is back at home again, and wants to come by and pick up his packages, but if it's anything like yesterday, I'll be a couple minutes late. I'd like to know how I used to be able to not leave until ~7:20 and still get there with a few minutes to spare...