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Writer's pictureBrianna Lewis

Today was quite frustrating.

It was entirely eaten up by work.


I woke up and prepped for work.

Left for work.

And then worked my normal shift.


And then I basically got volunteered to work five hours more. Technically speaking, I could've said no. But realistically speaking, I couldn't.


So then, I worked a second time.

Drove home for work.

And now I am prepping for bed--because of work tomorrow.


I know I could've said no, so I know I have nobody to blame but myself. I know that I am being a (pardon the language) bitch. I shouldn't complain, I have no right to complain. I did it to myself, effectively.


But that doesn't mean I am happy about it.


I felt like I had to do it because I am a lead lifeguard and I was already there and leads fill in when nobody else can and nobody else could. I genuinely had no reason to plausibly refuse. I really didn't want to, but I basically had to. I know, this is unprofessional of me--it makes me sound like I am a victim, that my workplace is to blame, etc. They aren't. It's my doing, so like.


My frustration is my at myself. For working a shift I knew I'd hate, for missing the things I know I missed, and now after the fact: for complaining about the day that I was able of not having.


​But I need to go to bed.

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