Not My Job

I am suffocating in your guilt.

I didn’t get you into this mess.

I didn’t cause this to happen,

but yet I’m stuck dealing

with your consequences.

It’s not my job to be your pity party.

It’s not my job to make you feel better.

It’s not my job to make you less lonely.

Stop making it sound like it is.

I have a real job

with actual responsibilities.

I don’t have the time

or energy really to

deal with your constant guilt trips.

I’ll tell you what I tell the kids:

I don’t do tears,

Man up and get your shit together.

Stop suffocating me with YOUR problems.

I have enough of my own.

 

Lifeguard Problems

Oh look.

The kids are running

…again.

And that one

Over by the stairs

Seems to think he’s Michael Phelps.

He’s not.

He’s 5 years old

And not a parent in sight.

The boys over there

Have made a new game.

It appears the only rule

is to annoy me.

Fantastic.

The girl over there

Is eating on the pool deck.

Nothing I love more

Than cleaning up soggy teddy grams

Before I can leave.

Oh and “Mr. Phelps” decided

To test the waters.

He can’t touch.

Looks like I’m going in.

Saved his life.

Spend next 10 minutes

Locating mom for paperwork.

She is bitching me out.

For saving her son.

“He can swim,” she says.

Apparently not.

I leave it to the manager.

It’s time for my break.

A girl just puked.

In the pool.

Now I’m cleaning.

This is gross.

This is terrible.

Is it August yet?