And I Grit My Teeth

and bear the floundering last few weeks of putting up with the previously didactic soap-opera that was my old job. schedualing falling to shit--training falling to shit--continuity falling to shit. it is my turn in the rumor mill, and i just can't seem to care. not that the mill has ever grinded me up that badly ever...i am usually the control group. as it sits, i just do my job and fight the short-timers disease that always seems to come out of nowhere and bite you in the ass during the dying throes of finite employment. how do temps do it?

"that's how you do it"
"what do you mean?"
"i mean, here is twenty-one bucks for one round"
"and they didn't tip?"
"that is the tip"
"holy shit! from those three guys? did you know them really well?
"never met them before in my life"
"bullshit. are you serious?"
"it's a gift there, kiddo. you will learn how to push the buttons...pay attention to everyone all the time and people will start to make sense"

if they can only pay attention...we will make them great...and that's not just the world series of poker!