Now that I have no school, I spend more time at work and I have more time to write on this thing.

I don't know what was in the air yesterday, but for some reason, every person who came onto my line had an attitude. I was on express, which should cease to be called express and renamed Cramped Breeding Ground for People with Sticks and Other Large Objects Stuck in Their Ass to Congregate. This one woman was loading her shit onto the belt and then realized that she had left an opened bag of pretzels in her cart. She neglected to tell me that they were open, so when I grabbed them out of her hand a couple of them went flying about. Then she stood there and gave me this look like I had just spilled wine all over her white carpet or something, and made those exhaling noises you make when you're annoyed at something. Shut the fuck up you fatass whore. Maybe if you payed for your food and THEN ate it, this wouldn't happen. Jesus Christ. Why don't you go run a mile or something instead of stuffing your face with unnecessary carbohydrates. Or maybe you could tell me your fucking bag of disgusting dry bland pretzels was open instead of letting me read your mind. Then there was this one woman who went to the register behind me. The cashier was closed, and he told her that, yet she insisted on putting her groceries on the belt anyway. Finally he looks at her and goes, "Ma'am, I'm closed." To which she retorts, "Well where's your closed sign? How come you don't have a closed sign?" The light that says "Open" is off, you slut. Then she throws all her groceries back into her cart, comes over to my line, and on the way she knocks over an entire display of sunglasses with her cart which she does not even bother to pick up, starts angrily unloading her shit onto my line, all the while lecturing me about how she can't believe it and how she's never coming to this store again. FUCK YOURSELF. I don't give a shit if you got hit by a bus on your way home. If Shoprite loses one customer, another old woman or bossy soccer mom will take the place. Why do people think I care about their petty lives? If you think I actually give a damn whether or not your bread is squished, you're wrong. Oh and what am I supposed to do, wipe your ass and right all the wrongs in the world just because you're a snobby asswipe who thinks you can just toss your groceries anywhere you want and expect everyone to stop what they're doing and scan them and tell you how good your skin tight white pants look? God.

I still don't understand why people cannot use credit card machines. It's not like the thing is asking you to rub your head and pat your stomach at the same time and recite the first 500 numbers of pi and list every breed of mosquito. I hate people.