I can’t wait.

My job is really wearing down on me. It sickens me to go to work some days, to stand in the back room when I arrive and before the dinner rush flows in, think of all of the people and their food I am about to encounter. It’s sick.

There’s contests I can’t win because of advantages given to other employees. There’s tables I can’t wait on, a larger section that I can’t have because I don’t flirt with the GM. There’s the many employees I can’t hang out with because of the excessive drama in their lives. And of course, there’s the food I don’t enjoy anymore because I’ve seen it in so many mutilated, slimy combinations.

I believe I am a hard worker, and can suffice in many environments. I also believe, there must be one more adequate for me than this. There must be something else.

The only person that can take action and change this situation is myself, and right now I can’t change because I don’t know how, I don’t know where. I need a job to save money for Europe, yet I don’t know how many places would hire me if they knew that come March, I’ll need a couple of months off. 

I am a rock, stuck in a tight place. There must be a way to wiggle myself out.