I had a terrible night at work. Just as we started to get really busy, I knocked an entree plate against the side of the dishroom garbage can to get the food off of it and it shattered in my hand. Luckily I only got one small cut on the side of my thumb by the nail, but I had to sit in the bathroom for fifteen minutes compressing the thing because it wouldn't stop bleeding. The rest of the night just seemed to go downhill from there. Everyone was in a foul mood, I left on very bad terms with one of the servers, and the best part is I work five nights this week, including tomorrow. I wish August 1st would hurry up and roll around so I can head up north and get away from it for a week. And I wish I didn't feel so goddamn lonely.