... my day went SO well that the fingers on my right hand are hard to move because I cracked open two knuckles on my right hand from seriously punching the wooden frame of the receiving door at full force.
Nobody was in kids all day yesterday. That was when all of the endcaps, all 13 in kids and two in teens, not to mention the shelf strips and the theme tower and a ton of displays, had to be changed over. Once again MY section got fucked over. All of it, this whole huge list of stuff that needed to be done, was supposed to be done yesterday but it wasn't. And since nobody had been in kids since tuesday night, the entire section was a mess. Books were everywhere, everything was a mess, and there were two full carts of books to be put away, not to mention the massive stacks on my desk.
Kyle came in at 7am and tried to put the endcaps up. But he did them all wrong so I had to take down the ones he did as well as the ones he hadn't gotten to yet. And I had to put away all the books from the endcaps that he DID do but didn't put away yet.
Nobody cares. Nobody seems to care. My section is burning in flames and sinking and going straight to hell and I'm basically the only person in kids, the only person allowed to do any work in there, and it's horrible and its shit and I was fucking pissed off and just inches away from exploding. All day.
I wanted to hit somebody, something, ANYTHING and I hit the wooden frame of the receiving door. Hard. Full force.
Now it hurts to move my fingers, to move my right hand. Two of my knuckles have swollen up pretty big. They hurt like hell.
My wife says I should go to the doctor. I disagree. My wife also says I should quit. I'm not sure about that, although I am thinking it over. Work isn't fun anymore. It's a pain in the ass.
And I should leave.
I might leave.
I'm sick of being fucked over. This is bullshit.