Groan

I hate my new temp job. I really hate my new temp job. I really really hate my new temp job. Need I go on? My feet are sore and blistered, my left leg hurts, I'm shivering even though I'm not cold, and I keep gritting my teeth. It's almost like it's 1996 all over again.

The only marginally amusing thing I can think of about this job is that it's in a warehouse of a company that sells party supplies. One of the boxes I heaved onto a pallet had the words "UGLY TEETH" on the label. I think that was the only box I encountered that I wanted to open.

We're stacking boxes that have been returned by a big discount department store that shall remain nameless. The boxes have to have their bar codes scanned and if they scan correctly, we hear Homer Simpson scream "WOO-HOO!" And if they aren't scanned correctly we hear Homer Simpson scream "D'OH!" So all frickin' day it was "WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! D'OH! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! D'OH!" I'm serious. There were several groups of people scanning these boxes, so I could hear Homer constantly in the background. It was funny at first, then it was hellish.

I have to work tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to waking up.