I have less than two weeks to work in Yellowstone Park or the Land of Oz. Why am I making this comparison?
The most striking similarity is...
I am convinced that two of my managers trained under the Wicked Witch of the West. They have all of her charm and people skills.
Neither one speaks to the front desk staff unless they have something negative to say. Have I pointed out that we make $7.75 an hour, minus room and board, we stand on our feet 8 hours a day and work shifts that change daily? Stop rolling your eyes behind my back. I know I am repeating myself, but I don't have television and there isn't anything else to occupy my time.
Yesterday, I came close to grabbing one of the managers by the ears and slamming her face into the outdated computer monitor. I believe we can play Pong on it. With great effort, and I mean dangerously high blood pressure effort, I controlled myself.
You know what relieves stress when the boss pushes buttons you never even knew you had? Try this game. http://whackyourboss.com/. When I played it, there were 17 ways to "whack" or "off" your boss. Now they are up to 20 ways. Can't wait to give the other 3 a try. It isn't pretty, it's dark and gruesome and I love it. Don't go there unless that last big red button, hidden in the reptilian part of your brain, has been pushed by your Wicked Witch.
To balance the universe, let me share some things that I will miss.
My early morning walks around the Old Faithful geyser basin are therapeutic. Better than an hour on a psychiatrist's couch.
It must work since my managers are still alive and the rangers haven't hauled me off.
The tourists swamp the area later in the day, but in the morning, they're too busy packing or buying over priced lattes to get out on the walkways. Thank the gods for that favor.
Don't let the cute fool you. They have beady eyes.
What? I don't have any food!
The geysers sort of sound like waves pounding on the beach.
A peaceful sound in the morning.
I did not take this path.
If the Wicked Witch works here, her flying monkeys live down there.
Sorry if you are eating breakfast or dinner right now.
I'm all alone on this path, by the way.
I couldn't resist taking a photo before I made a frantic dash down the boardwalk.
I was singing my bear songs..."Here I am in the woods...no one knows I'm here...I love the friendly bears...they never shed a tear." I think I was singing this to the tune of "Blue Skies" an old song that anyone younger than me won't know, but the point was to make a lot of noise so that whatever chewed this carcass would decide to run the other way.
Bears are quite sensitive to poor singing. They run off and stick their head in a geyser if it's too bad. It's called "suicide by geyser" I believe. Happens all the time.
Stop staring at me with your little beady eyes.
I know you've seen this on YouTube, but it can't hurt one bit to see it again.
That always makes me feel better. How about you?
Until tomorrow, I promise to control myself....if I only had some courage or a brain. Must visit the Great Oz. He can tell me what to do.