where does a bee put his stinger at night? ...

i have very small, greenish-transparent-looking spiders crawling all over me. not cool. apparently i chose the wrong place to sit. oh well... nothing i can do about it now, as i refuse to freak out over teeny tiny little crawly things... even though i feel like i'm about to crawl out of my skin... can you tell i have nothing of any use or significance to write about today? i thought that maybe if i started typing, something witty would happen... no such luck.

i have decided that i strongly dislike waiting tables. it's not that the job itself is shit, because it can be most entertaining at times and the people i work with are amazing. it's just that people... well... aren't so great or nice or even civil to people who work in the food service industry. it would seem that i didn't get the memo that stated that i am a lower class of human being because i don't work in an office. this is new information for me... and i have to say that i think that is utterly ridiculous. i think that instead of mandatory military service and whatnot, people should be required to work in a restaurant for at least a year. let people learn to understand that, no, servers do not make minimum wage... we make $2.13 an hour. and then even that is taxed. so yes, we do rely on your tips... otherwise, i would be making an average of $30 a week... how's that for bread money? let people learn to understand that people bust their asses so that you can have 'a night out.' let people learn to understand to treat people, no matter what their current state of employ, like human beings...