Well, I talked to the new manager at my old restaurant who told me that "based on the metrics we look at and talking to the previous managers, we won't be rehiring you." Fuck you, asshole! What fucking metrics? The fact that I was very reliable, picked up extra shifts, and was one of the best sellers? Those metrics? And "talking to the previous managers"? Did he fucking call up CL? Or did Lapdog and HotPants just decide to be dicks?
Or maybe he didn't even really look in to it at all, since he had to ask if I was trying to be rehired and ask if I'd put in my application. I don't know. But I'm not so happy. I also may not have even the shitty call center job anymore since supposedly you can't miss training and I woke up sick today. I tried to go. Came home when I threw up again, in the parking lot.
Of course, there's some sort of problem with the air in the building anyway that's making me (and a couple of other people) ill. Within five minutes of getting there, my eyes are putting out chunks of green mucus, I'm sneezing and coughing, and I can feel my sinuses swelling shut. By the end of last week I could hardly talk.
In possibly positive news, the boy is back. I don't know for how long or what we are, but at least I know he's alive.
Other than that, I'm totally depressed.