bandito

Today was a slightly different Saturday than most. This Saturday, I spent time with my mother. We went to the zoo; something we haven’t done since I was little.

We enjoyed the animals. We talked about the controversy surrounding captive elephants,
and past lives, and bought a bag of kettle corn in which I accidentally tore a small hole. while waiting in line to buy it, I witnessed three stupid teenage girls chasing a peacock trying to take a photo with it. It turned around and pecked them. They seemed shocked.

I had to be at work at two. Earlier in the day I had received a few group messages from work saying how a raccoon somehow got in last night and destroyed everything. Seeing as how we run a small, local produce market…this was very bad.

When I got there, I was bombarded with stories, and evidence of this furry bandit. It somehow had gotten in through the skylight, taken a shit on the apple display twice, and proceeded to walk all throughout the store.
It went into the checkout, knocking over several jars of olive oil and thick, oozing honey onto our tiled floor. It had cut its poor little mini-human paws on the glass and panicked. Trying to escape, it had ripped apart our blinds  and waddled with its sticky, oily paws all over the boxes, counters, in the empty cash registers, and up on our tortilla chip display.

The evidence was everywhere. I do not like poopy, sticky, oily, bloody evidence, my furry friend. I’m sorry you smelled our delicious fruits and veggies and decided to fall in from the ceiling. I’m sorry we have to clean it up and rid of everythinh, too. That’s a lot of money gone down the drain. That’s a funny saying, because, at one point I actually had to wash the money…..you could say I was laundering money! Har Har har. Funny.

I spent too long cleaning and dealing with the occasional cold shoulder from my coworkers. One takes everything too personally, is grumpy all day then makes me do more of the work because he “doesn’t feel like it,” he says. The other supposedly had a mutual breakup with his now former girlfriend, which greatly saddens me. They were amazing, but she didn’t really want to stay together because he’s not earning enough money. She can’t see herself having a family with someone earning as little as him (about 20 bucks an hour between two jobs).

People really think that way. Money really does matter more than love to some. I can see why he’s so upset, and treating me like I’m mediocre at my job. It just hurts and I have grown tired of these bad mood days. When I’m in a bad mood, I just don’t talk to anybody. Why can’t you do the same instead of raining on my already – disappointing parade?

I mostly had a good day. I am figuring out what I don’t like and what needs to change, but the process is near unbearable. It’s not the furry bandito’s fault, that’s a given.

My eyes are drooping as I write this from my phone. I think it’s time to sleep. The faint smell of the left over kettle corn my mother left for me on my bed is oddly therapeutic. Goodnight everyone.

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