Work has gone pretty well this week -- I never realized how much certain members of my night crew were making a relatively simple job impossible until I helped to get them fired. Wow, that sounds awful, doesn't it?

Still, even though things are no longer Hellish, I'm still pretty burned out on working nights -- three years is just too long to go without getting to see the sunrise. Turns out I'm not alone in being burned out as last night, when I first arrived at the store, one of my bosses (I have four -- the store director and than three assistant managers) ended up talking to me for about thirty minutes about how much he hates his job, how much coming to work depresses him, and he told me that he was thinking of just quitting. I felt bad for the guy because I knew exactly what he was feeling but at the same time, I didn't know what to say to make him feel better. To be honest, my first (unspoken) response was to point out that even though we both pretty much feel trapped in our current positions, he still managed to move higher up than I did before that trap was sprung. For the most part, he talked about how he felt like -- for all his hard work -- he'd never make it all the way to store manager. Meanwhile, all I could think about, was just how far away I am from even making it up to assistant manager. We also talked about our own individual salaries. I'm paid by the hour, the assistant managers are paid a salary -- a set amount of money regardless of how many hours they work during the pay period. As we talked about this, it quickly became apparent that -- counting in the overtime that I get almost every week -- I make about two dollars more per hour than my boss.

This discovery led to an awkward moment but, at the same time, it ended the conversation before we ended up getting too consumed by self-pity so, in the end, it was for the best. For me, at least. Anyway, I did try to assure the guy that he was a good manager and I encouraged him not to give up and this led to another discovery -- I really suck at being supportive.

Still, it is nice to know that I'm not the only manager at that store who hates having to walk through those sliding glass doors every day.

After that little conversation, I actually had a pretty good night at work. My crew did their job well, I did my job adequately (whatever my job happens to be -- the important thing is that the store is still standing and nobody's suing us), and we got finished early. I sent my night crew home a little bit before six a.m. and that left me with an hour to just sit out on the back loading dock, smoke a few cigarettes, and act cocky whenever any of the day workers asked me where my crew was.

I got home around 7:30 and had to do something that scars the conscience of every pet owner. I had to take my new cat (his name is Hidey and, like almost every animal I've ever owned, he's a former stray who pretty much decided to move in with me) down to the vet for his -- well, for his operation. You know -- the operation. I don't want to say anything else about it though I was a little bit disturbed by the fact that, as I left Hidey sitting there in his carrier, in the back of the vet's office, he didn't seem to be all the upset to see me leaving. Left me feeling just a little bit taken for granted. Anyway, I don't want to think about what's going to be happening in a few hours down at that vet's office. Hidey will be asleep during the operation, of course. Hopefully, when he wakes up and I go back to the vet's to pick him up, he won't notice anything different....  ¶ 8:47 AM