Can Someone Tell Me Where I Put My Sanity?

Sometimes I think I'm really losing it.

No, really.

Last night beat my other night from hell. I go into work and just when I think I've got the new computers mastered and the doctor calls and says the bloodwork came out fine and nothing's wrong with me (then why am I so freaking tired all the time?), I do something so stupid, so lamebrain, that it makes me realize maybe I'm so far gone even the doctors can't diagnose me.

For starters, I pulled a double. I've tried in vain to get the boss to hire someone to help me, but he insists I'll make more money this way. I don't care about the money. I just want my sanity back.

So, it's Friday night and I've already worked the day shift, but thank the gods, goddesses, whoever, I do have someone to work with me for the night shift. I've gotten to the point where the computers are starting to make half sense and I'm thinking tonight is going to be better, tonight is going to be better.

WRONG.

I don't know whose brain I want to kill when they came up with the idea that we must keep all our guests' checks and money on our persons. What happens if someone gives you a hundred dollar bill? Oh, they say ask the manager to break it for you. That's fine, but what if the manager is so busy himself and he completely ignores you and you're tired and you're frustrated and you say to hell with it and take out money you've brought to work and change it with that and stuff the hundred in your pocket?

And then what happens when you get busy and even more tired than you could possibly imagine and all you do is rant and rave about you're going to quit and work somewhere else?

They ignore you. They think you're just stressing and you'll be better in the morning.

Well, he - llo....it's morning and I've not been able to sleep and so I'm on here thinking it will be some kind of therapeutic miracle and afterwards I can go back to sleep so that I can get up and do it all over again.

But the real reason I can't sleep and the real reason I'm up at this ungodly hour when I've got to be to work in a few hours and need all the sleep I can get it is because something so terrible happened, even worse than being tired but was a direct cause of it, I lost that hundred dollar bill.

I went to cash out and the hundred dollar bill was gone. I searched my pockets and came up with nothing. I wanted to cry.

I did cry later...all the way home from work.

I had no other alternative but to pay for that hundred dollar bill out of my own pocket or I wouldn't get the privilege of going back to that hell hole tomorrow.

I don't know where that hundred dollar bill went, but my hunch is I thought it was a one dollar bill when giving someone back change.

There is one lucky person out there that is a hundred dollar richer and I hope that person does some good with it. It's not the money. It's the fact that it only goes to prove how much I'm losing it.

One day, I wish, that I can live off my writing because working majorly sucks right now.