blegggk

Promised the girls at work Iw as going to make lasagna for lunch tomorrow. Really want to make lasagna. Thing is, I went and bought the stuff to make it, I just feel like complete and utter poop now. I got home and changed into some more comfortable clothing, and got this desire to vomit everywhere. I have a very upset tummy. I don't know what hit me either. I just feel icky. I'll make them their lasagna anyway. It sounds so good.

Work was decent today. I was very sleepy all day, but that happens. I also had a customer bring me a deposit and I didn't count her cash while she was there and it was $20 short when I finally did count it, So I called her and left a message for her to call me as soon as she got back in the office so we could figure out how to handle this. Well, she didn't call me back, so I adjusted her deposit. Then she calls back after I'm already gone and someone else had to explain what happened and now this woman thinks I was $20 dollars short and I am adjusting her deposit to make up for it. Well, lady, screw you. Why would I do that? ugh. I think some people just have nothing better to do but assume the worst of people and it pisses me off that she would even accuse me of trying to cheat her out of twenty dollars. What. Ever. She also had the never to say I was taking to long and that I was strugglign with her deposit. Not DEPOSIT, ma'am. I took five minutes to do your eight DEPOSITS. And I don't "struggle" with simple deposits. I've been doing this almost two years. Where she gets the nerve. Irritates me to no end.

I had a visit on my sitemeter that was 70+ minutes, so I was curious as to who would read that much of my babbles in one sitting. The ip address was ont he meter more than once, too. At first I thought it was my psycho mommy, because she reads my diary and leaves me completely pointless guestbook entries, but when I went to the ARIN it popped up with an old friend of mine's husbands name as the "Org Tech Name" whatever that means. Anyway, if it was Marie that was looking here, I wish she would have emailed me, or signed my book, or something. grr.

Shit I feel horrid. I think I will take a nap before i go make lasagna.

Loves,

Steph