State of the Winnegan's employment.

Or rather the dismal things that bring about the lack thereof. Again.

Bastard Owner calls this morning and leaves a voicemail, wanting to know if I can come into work today. As in immediately. And he knows what the current nonexistent daycare situation is like.

I was out on the porch for the call, but by the time I come inside and finish listening to the voicemail, the phone is ringing again.

It's the Bastard Owner again. Wanting to know why I hadn't called him back yet, or just shown up for work yet.

My response: "I can't. I have no daycare for my daughter, and I'm the only one here with her. I can't bring her in, so what do you want me to do?"

Him: "I don't care, just get down here."

Me: (deep breath) No.

Him: What?

Me: A twenty minute rant on his lack of professionalism, his inability to listen to his employees, his inability to deliver a set schedule for work, and a few other things.

End result: He'll get his apron back a little later this week, and I'll be getting the check for the four hours I've worked around the same time. Pride is saying I should shove that check up his ass so far that you can read the routing number through his nostrils, but we need even that pittance of money too badly at this point.

I'm mostly done and over this already. Mostly. Just need to get a damn job and soon.