Friday night, I said, "I have too much pride to work here." Jose Pita said, "Too much pride and not enough dignity."
Truer words were never spoken. It's one of those night when I am dreading going to work. One of those nights when I wonder if I can summon the energy to do it one more time. A downfall to having a job that starts at midnight is you have all day to think about how much you don't want to go to work. Don't get me wrong; I love my coworkers. They are like family to me. And sometimes, when all the elements are balanced just so, I even enjoy my work. But, usually, it just makes me want to pound my head against a wall.
If you were a little fly on the wall behind the counter at the restaurant (**wait...I thought we bombed those fuckers**), then you might overhear one or many people say something to the effect of, "I need to take a break." And by break, they do not mean "go out for a smoke" or "sit and have some food." They mean "month in the Caicos Islands."
Sometimes, it feels like your soul has been pulled from your body and trampled by millions of steeltoed boots. Eskimos have 72 words for ice. In Florent, we have 1124 words for tired.
Never that easy.