Life as a Drone...
2001-09-13 08:09:41 (UTC)

Life At Denny's....

I am a waitress. I have worked for Denny's since March of
2000. I am quickly growing wary of the task. I am on the
verge of promotion to Junior Manager, but it is a one month
trial period. I honestly think that reguardless of how
good I am, it will come out with my going back to
waitressing. Mainly because I am a good drone, I help keep
the wheel turning, by doing extra work, covering extra
shifts. I deal with the public. I have customers, some
regular, some irregular, like the gentleman who came in
today. He sat himself, which I hate, then went to the
bathroom, and decided to just have a coke. Not to unusual,
aside from the fact that he was looking around suspiciously
and sniffing his right armpit every 30-45 seconds.

My friend Tony went away, a month or two ago. Maybe later,
but he went away, for a good job, in Boston. I miss him.
I think of him every day. You never really know how much
someone means to you, until they are gone. He was
everything to me. Not literally, but I felt special when I
hung out with him. He actually listened to me.
Reguardless of how ridiculous I was being. I think I've
only gotten into one serious argument with him, ever. I
wish Boston was two hours away from here, by car, but it's
across the United States, as I am In Phoenix, Arizona.

My car probably would not make it. It's a piece of crap.
There's a hole in the muffler, it smells, looks 10 years
older than it is.

Then there's my boyfriend. He's got a hole in his muffler,
he smells... just kidding. He's a strange one, though.
Most of the time, I feel truly in love with him, but he has
his moments. Moments where I wish his head would explode.
Okay, these moments are a little more frequent, lately.

I have home. Home is in Virginia. My mom is at home. We
have a store in our house, but we don't quite know what to
do with it. I want to go home. Coming back to Arizona was
a mistake. I went with my mom, from here, and ran back,
because I couldn't deal with such an immediate separation.
Now it sucks here, and I want to go home, to my things, my
mom, the house, I want to go to school.

Oh, and the federal government wants my ass. Not my ass,
specifically, but they want the student loans back, that I
so stupidly took out in my youth. I'm tired. I'm going to
bed. So ends this brief introduction to my "dear diary..."