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Tonight was my first night back to work after a week of sunshine, and it was quite a night. I was scheduled for Sunday brunch as well, so I got home at 2:15am, and I get to return to work by 9am. Isn't that great? Yeah, it makes me want to kill myself. One of the waitresses was surprised that this was the first time I had to do it, so she put an arm around me and let me know that, "It's even worse than you could possibly imagine." I imagine it being pretty bad, but I guess it will be horrible.

So, I have some strange news. As it turns out, the owners of the place where I work are regular visitors to this very site. I find that to be...interesting. And for those of you who read this regularly, I think you can imagine the reaction I had when I learned this information...direct from the owners' mouths. They seemed to think it was funny, but my brain was rapidly trying to recall everything I've ever written that I would not want my owners to read. I came up with a few. My face went red, my heart started pounding, a broke into a sweat, and I wondered if I would be fired now or at the end of the night. "Holy SHIT, what did I say???" Went through my head a millions times over. Anyway, it occurred to me exactly how strange this site is to me. I know that there are readers - that it isn't a journal, but an online journal for every tom, dick, and harry with a computer to read. I thought I knew that, but I guess I really didn't know. Before two weeks ago when there was no contacting me via this site, this really did feel like just a private journal. Now, I've acclimated to the idea that strangers and my good friends read it, but not people in my life like the owners of the restaurant where I work! That's a whole different story. I mean, these head boss men know what I've been thinking over the past few months. I walk around work with a smile, and they know that I've been plotting murders of my customers in my head. That's just strange. So, I got paranoid - started thinking that I need to be REALLY careful about what I say. Then I thought, hell no. This is MY site, it's MY turf. I'll do a good job at work like I always do. I'll give service with a smile. But this website is NOT my work, and I'm not going to sit here on my journal (granted online) and pretend that busting my ass for tips I may NOT get is the pride and joy of my life because of whoever reads this. This is about me. This is where I vent. This is where I share stories about my customers, about my day, about the ups and downs of it. I do my job well, and bitching about it only makes me human. If I had the job of my dreams (don't know what that would be), I'd bitch about that as well, and why? Because I love to bitch about things like we all do.

Either way, I suppose I have to start being a little smarter. I mean, I can still be brutally honest while being somewhat aware of the fact that people read this.

I would talk more, but my alarm is going off in 4 hours and 45 minutes. An entire Sunday dedictated to being ordered around for shitty tips. Aahhh...so nice.