frustration

Yesterday was kind of rough. I got to work at 11 because I was scheduled at 11. At 11:45 I was about ready to open the bar but the building still seemed suspiciously empty so I asked the box office people and they said the lobby wasn't open until 2 and they had no idea why we were there so early. I called BL to wake her up find out if she knew something no one else did. Turns out the schedule was probably just a typo and the new guy and I were there two hours early with nothing to do. I was unhappy. That's two hours of morning I could have been asleep in bed. Not cool.

There's this one man on the front-of-house (ushers and stuff) staff who's in his 40s or 50s and is very nice but kind of creepy. Something seems off with him, but it's hard to place. They had him run the satellite bar yesterday, and he apparently hates it and had only done it once before. I put on my teacher hat and helped him through the set-up. Another person helped him run it and break it down. Then I showed him how to do the paperwork. I think he must be LD or just this side of retarded, because it took 45 minutes of me sitting there with him and going through step-by-step in a way that reminded me of helping the first graders with their homework. He couldn't count by 20s and instead went through his money saying "10 20...30 40...50 60" It was sad and frustrating and after he was done and out of the bar I went in the back room and closed the door and screamed.

NBF wasn't feeling well so when we were on our way out and dropping my car off by my apartment for lack of parking in Wrigleyville we stopped in my apartment. I'm living in my own filth these days. He's seen it before, but it's as bad as it's ever been (those of you who know my living space tendencies know quite how awful that must be) and it makes me very mad at myself. Add to that my dog completely freaking out and barking and shaking and panting for a solid hour while NBF lay quietly on my bed and the shame and frustration was too much. I love my dog just. so. much and I don't know what to do when he gets like that besides never have people in my apartment ever but it goes back to my whole Fortress of Solitude tendency and I'm going to die alone and they'll find me days later behind a pile of empty frozen dinner boxes. I hate myself for it.