Dear Retail Gig,
I am sorry to tell you that I have grown too old to participate in your mayhem much longer. I spent the better part of my Sunday in my pajamas in the bed trying to recover from Saturday. And it wasn't even as busy as we had anticipated. My legs and my ass still ache, my feet are still screaming, and my head is about to explode from listening to the same flippin' songs over and over again.
There was a time I could do this. There was a time when I was the BEST at this, and absolutely NOTHING fazed me...not even the rudest old ladies in the world that I happily took on when opening the gigantic Old Navy on Long Island; not even folding thousands of polar fleece half zip jackets until 4:00 in the morning and then coming back to open the store at 8:00; not even that flaming drama queen of a district manager I last had at that snooty hardware store. All of that? Nothing. It was so easy then. I could even go out and party after working 12 plus hours in a day.
Sadly, this is no longer the case. I am spent. Done. Over it.
Please, hear my cries. I do not want to be one of those wrinkled up old ladies shuffling around the store in her SAS shoes and pen on a string. Please have mercy on me and dismiss me from this fresh Hell now.
Love always (seriously, I will always love you, but I HATE YOU even more),