Take five kids, an old school pal, freight night at the store, and a woman who wanted to get home early. Add to that mix the news that our assistant manager's last day is tomorrow, one pizza party, 101 pages of reading that I was trying to finish, and what have you got?
You've got a woman that worked like crazy stocking and putting freight away. She is so sore that she can barely walk. The reading assignment that she meant to do on break did not get done, because she was joining her voice to the many praises of said assistant manager. I got off work at 10 PM, came home to an excited house of teenagers sprawled watching Mrs. Doubtfire, and then stayed up too late. Then and only then did that woman go to bed to read her assignment.
1 AM is way too late when the alarm goes off at 6.
Moral of the story: There is not enough coffee in the world. Gads. I think that I am going to die.
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