This is the third installment of the Rant Time series, in which I rant about several things, including controversial topics and everyday life. I tell stories of my life, give advice to those in need of it, and of course, rant about things that make...
I'm fucking tired. Very tired. So tired that I typed in thirteen-hour shift on my status instead of eleven-hour shift, because I couldn't count in my head.
Long shifts suck ass. I'll admit, I'd rather work a Sunday than a Saturday because there's less kids, but less kids means a lot of downtime, and too much downtime is looked down upon. Work, work, work. Don't sit on your ass. Look busy. Fiddle and pretend you're cleaning. As long as you aren't still.
I spent all night cleaning. All night. I don't exaggerate here. I got to work around four and showed our handyman around to see what he can do to fix the place up, as far as reconstruction goes (all the decor is on point, thanks to TiTi and I's countless hours of work). My mom and I had to go to the dollar store to pick up some shit for the daycare. That was two hours gone in total right there.
Came back, got really pissy with a coworker I cannot bear to stand because she left a baby who can walk in a high chair for two hours straight (fuck me for caring, am I right?). After she FINALLY calmed them down around seven, I hung up some decorations in the baby room and made it awesome, thank you and you're welcome.
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Yes, those are rainbows. My mom picked them out because "they remind her of me" and she loved how I put them up. I feel very accomplished just by that.
After that, I got to deep cleaning. Doing four loads of laundry, because apparently it's just too hard for the day shift to take all the seat covers off the equipment and put them to wash, so I did it myself. Babies are sensitive to germs, and I try to make it a point to get people to wash all equipment covers and padding at least once a week. Nope. It is too goddamn hard to take twenty seconds out of their day to put it to wash.
When I tell you that water was dirty, I mean it was almost black.
While that was washing, I deep cleaned and went all out. Vacuuming, bleaching everything top to bottom, rearranging the entire room, organizing the closet, inspecting everything for health or fire hazards, sorting out the toys and getting rid of all the broken stuff, folding clothes, checking expiration dates on formulas, replacing trash bags...everything.
By the time I was done with that room, it was ten, and I moved onto the toddler room (while still doing loads of laundry) and sorted toys and bleached it top to bottom. I rearranged the changing table, put everything into separate bins, and inspected. I finished my laundry, and it was midnight.
I had to label and date all food in the fridge and pantry, because of health codes. I never sat. My feet were killing me. I took a break and closed my eyes for a bit.
My fucking laundry was done. And my coworker had me do hers and had the nerve to say, "I could've done it" after I was finished.
*eye twitch*
I put all the covers back on the equipment and basked in the freshness. The room was absolutely perfect. It smelled great. It looked amazing. It sparkled. I was intensely satisfied with my work. It was one am.
Now, the coworker who works the baby room in the morning (remember Whiner?) isn't exactly the type to try to keep everything like it was and appreciate that someone took six hours to make it look nice but has the nerve to say we all left the room "dirty" but never cleans it herself.
I have proof that it was perfectly clean to the final detail. Not a thing on the floor, not a stain anywhere. I have pictures, not only to combat her shit later today, but also because I'll never see that room that perfect ever again without killing myself.
I expect to arrive this afternoon to a destroyed room and dirty covers. I guarantee you. And I'm already pissed.
I left work at three am. My feet are fucking killing me and I cannot move. This job is physically demanding and sometimes I come home in pain. And I have to get up in a few hours to do my online courses (finally got those) and go back to work. I'll be back in that hellhole in ten short hours, maybe even less.
My life is just crazy, crazy busy with everything going on. School, daily mandatory teacher conferences, work, outside activities, friendships, relationships. It's hard to make time for everything and everyone, but I've learned to manage my time and am aware I cannot do everything I plan to do sometimes. I have priorities, but sometimes they get set aside. Of course, I make more money, but still. It's hard.
These late shifts are starting to suck. I come home and I pass out before I get to do my nightly exercise. Sometimes I fall asleep and forget to take my depression pill, and I wake up frazzled and pissed off.
