I don’t hate you. I find it extremely irritating that you came and stole the manager position from under me cause you’re closer to another manager, but I don’t hate you. I just want to punch you in the face for taking all of my shifts leaving me with barely enough money to pay for gas.
I don’t hate you,
I just want you gone.
I swear I only reblog giraffe pictures
(Source: lisa-ballendorf, via paradise-fleur)
For years I’ve watched you help them, with cues and patterns. Now you never tell me what I’m doing wrong - you just say “do better.” How can I get better if I don’t even know what I’m doing wrong? I hit all my cues, I keep the tempo, and I have been to at least 1 sectional per section. But you don’t care. You even called her “Little Major”. If you didn’t want me in this position, why did you put me there?