saturday morning hipocrisy

diction
hy·poc·ri·sy
–noun, plural -sies.
1.
a pretense of having a virtuous character, moral or religious beliefs or principles, etc., that one does not really possess.
2.
a pretense of having some desirable or publicly approved attitude.
3.
an act or instance of hypocrisy.
deceit.
Dictionary.com Unabridged (v 1.1)Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.

American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source - Share This
hy·poc·ri·sy
n. pl. hy·poc·ri·sies
The practice of professing beliefs, feelings, or virtues that one does not hold or possess; falseness.
An act or instance of such falseness. [Middle English ipocrisie, from Old French, from Late Latin hypocrisis, play-acting, pretense, from Greek hupokrisis, from hupokrīnesthai, to play a part, pretend : hupo-, hypo- + krīnesthai, to explain, middle voice of krīnein, to decide, judge; see krei- in Indo-European roots.]
(Download Now or Buy the Book)The American Heritage® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth EditionCopyright © 2006 by Houghton Mifflin Company.Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. All rights reserved.

So I have to work this weekend. the weekend my mother was to come into town. the weekend of little sister's baby shower. the crunch stress weekend of more family drama. and i have to work.

thanks to my boss for not giving a shit about my life and scheduling me to work the weekend i didn't have to. its the second monthly weekend i'm working because my boss was too busy dealing with her snaggletoe (snaggletoe: a toe that is misshapen, bent, distorted, or otherwise unporportioned to the foot and other toes) from wearing high heels for 20 years straight. so due to this fact, i got screwed.

its typical. i mean i expected it. this place is bias and doesn't give a shit about their employees so whatever right? lets just throw them under the bus. except the token black dude who's an excellent salesman/preacher/lecherous sick dirty old man who's loved by the good doctor. he never gets in trouble. good times.

so this morning i decided not to bother doing my hair too hardcore as i didn't want to burn it after yesterday's torture with product and heat. i threw it up in a clip... pinned the top into a pomp (pomp: short for pompadour which is a hair do popularized in the late 40's by greasers or other hoodlems of the time. now worn by men and women in the car culture world) and tie a pretty pink bandana around it which matched my camisole and shoes. shoes which are the cutest pink espidrille wedges with lil white embroidered stars on them! soo cute. anyway very rockabilly very cute.

I get to work.. survive a half hour before my assistant manager pulls me aside and tells me that i need to go home and do something with the hair. its unprofessional.

I snap. i'm sooo incredibly sick of this place and its bullshit. frenemy dresses like a cross between a drag queen, Peggy Bundy and a whore and gets away with it. the manager is a 40 year old who wears gogo dresses and lil triangle tops with hooker heels. the dr's say nothing. they allow it. i wear my hair in a pink PINK!!! bandana that matches my outfit and i get told to change it.

I call shinannagans!!!

i tell him so! everything! exactly how i feel! i tell him that the bias treatment of certain employees versus others is unfair and has brought down morale like a bomb. i make it clear that people leave because of the micromanagement of some and the free range roaming of others ... others who screw up the schedules, lie to the patients, and sell shit that is inferior to our standards yet get away with it!

if i were black.. they wouldnt' say shit about the rag. they'd be too afraid to. black people have no idea how much power they've amassed with the fear of being un PC toward them. lol man. if only...

he said that he'd not been able to say anything before. now the doctor has given him the right to say something and he'll be doing so. I'm just the first to hear it.

so he takes me home. i burn my hair with the blowdryer until its in place. my cat proceeds to bite my assistant manager in the living room while i do so. shes a good kitty. :D she knows her loyalties. he brings me back ... and i tell him i understand where he's comin from but its bogus and he knows it. he agrees. i tell him that its outta hand and unfair with the way they dress and i get called out for my hair thats that. he understands.

lifes funny that way ya know?

so saturday sucks balls like a two dollar hooker on a tuesday morning. i'm fed up and tired. what can you do?