Posted by: DIYwriting | July 8, 2022

Night Shift

“I don’t know why anyone – or I guess how anyone – can work the night shift.  How can a boss expect me to wear pants until 9 PM?”  Angela complained the entire way out of the library and I began to wonder how she had even been hired in the first place. 

Nothing she ever said was positive and nothing she did was productive.  All I wanted to do was go home and take a shower.  I had to get out of the clothes before they burned a hole into my skin.  I had had enough of this job and I had had enough of horrible coworkers. 

And Angela was right at the top of the horrible coworker list.  She couldn’t do the basic parts of her job and she could never take any responsibility for her actions.  I was under the impression she had only been hired because she was friends with the boss. Obviously being friends with the boss meant you could do exactly nothing. Or basically whatever you wanted. 

As we continued toward our cars and the parking garage, I began to seriously consider this being the last time I made this walk.  The more Angela complained, the more positive I became this would be my last day at the library.  Little did I know, this would be the last day for the library all together.  The fire set things straight. 


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