The prodigal son…

April 7, 2007

By now, you must have realized that I am a lazy bastard. How long has it been now? A few months, right? Anyways, for me it seems like years to me. But, a lot has happened to me since the last time I posted on here.

Most of my time has been taken up by my new position. No, I’m not talking about something from the Kama Sutra (which I am sure comes as a great surprise to those of you who know me, because I’m alway bringing it up in conversation. But, how else are you supposed to turn scissors and butterflies into something dirty?). I’m talking about my promotion.

Up until 3 weeks ago, I held the position of “Grill Cook” at the restaurant I work at- essentially the same job that Spongebob Squarepants rocks at the Krusty Krab. However, due to the advent of our General Manager’s resignation, I was able to talk my way into a shot at greatness. Somehow, despite my every effort to be universally known as the resident jackass at the restaurant, I was able to convince the owners that I should be a manager.

Yes, the job comes with a great deal of responsibility. And by responsibility I mean money. Holy crap am I getting paid. And I mean P.A.I.D., you know? I almost feel dirty making so much, like I had to strip for it or something (which I wouldn’t necessarily be against, considering I have been known to show my titties at the bar for no other reason than my egotistic insistence that they are the most glorious man-boobs owned by someone who rarely works out).

Really, though, this promotion isn’t all that surprising to me. I have the schooling (Associate’’s degrees in Culinary Arts and Nutrition, as well as certification as a Chef). I have the experience (managed a 450 seat restaurant in Pittsburgh, managed a Blockbuster, nearly 13 years in various restaurants, etc.). I just feel a bit odd having spent my entire life fighting “The Man” and now I am “The Man.” I feel a Fight-Club-esque (or Liar-Liar-esque, if you will) self ass-kicking coming on.

All joking aside, I am seriously fucking tired though. I am working something like 900 hours a week and it seems like I get 74 to the power of googleplex phonecalls a day… it’s a good thing I like talking as much as I do. As a result of my fatigue, I have limited my online activity to visiting collegehumor.com, fark.com, checking my bank activity and cellphone usage, and checking my emails every 30 seconds. I would apologize for not posting here more except I am pretty sure that I am one of like 6 people who even know this blog exists. Yay for obscurity.