To my boss…

Dear Richard,

 I’m sorry that I came in today on my day off to finish a cake order that I couldn’t get done yesterday and didn’t have enough time to fill the cake case because I had to miss work on Thursday and it put me a day behind. I’m sorry that I made plans to be somewhere this morning a month ago. I’m sorry that I don’t recall getting the memo saying that I was not allowed to have a life beyond the store. I’m sorry that I’m not capable of splitting myself into fifteen people to do the fifteen jobs required of me and only me, where as the majority of everyone else gets to sit on their asses while I work mine off because I have one more thing added to my job description than everyone else. I’m sorry that I’m 26 years old and have the body of a 90 year old with absolutly no fucking clue as to why my body is breaking down. I’m sorry that I had to see my doctor on Thursday because I couldn’t feel my left leg nor put any weight on it when I woke up and was fearful that I had a hairline fracture in my leg. I’m sorry that I have a knee injury that I have no fucking clue as to how I could’ve gotten it or when I got it. I’m sorry that I put the customers that are capable of thinking ahead and order their cakes early over those who look at the calendar on Saturday or Sunday morning and say, “Holy shit it’s Mother’s Day. Let’s get mom a fattening cake that she probably doesn’t need to be eating in the first place and will probably make her feel miserable for the rest of the day because she’ll have to break her diet in order to eat it to show her how much we love her.” I’m sorry that between the time you leave in the morning and come back in the evening, we could have sold all the cakes that were in the case when you left plus the ones I did while you were gone, making you ask my co-workers what the fuck I did all day. Yes, you caught me… I sit in the back all day picking at my ass instead of decorating all the cakes you sell and get paid for it. Just because you might not see the finished product doesn’t mean I didn’t do it. What do you want me to tell the customers? “I’m sorry but you can only purchase cakes between the times of 11:00 am – 12:30 pm and 6:00 pm – 10:00 pm when my boss is here to prove that I actually work my ass off during the day.” I’m sorry that you’ve turned into a miserable, grouchy old man because you’re done with the store and can’t wait to close it for good making all of miserable in the process. I’m sorry I’m not Yasmine, Cheryl, Alaina, or Sharon.

 And last but not least… I’M SORRY I’M NOT FUCKING PERFECT!!!

Sincerely your employee for a combined total of six years,

Courtney.

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