I hate Mark

So I got my schedule for this week last night.

Off Monday and Wednesday; Tuesday and Saturday night; Thursday, Friday, and Sunday day.

I was up 'til six or seven fixing Aunt Ann's computer, and I could have used another few hours. She came by to pick it up, and I was woken up (this was probably about eight or eight thirty).

So about 10:45, my cell phone rings. I answer it, somewhat unintelligebly, noting that it's Sonic calling. The voice asks if it's me (because I'm somewhat groggy at this point), then informs me that I was supposed to be in at 10 am.

No way.

Way.

I told them I'd be there in a bit. I put my work clothes on and was out the door in under three minutes. I got there, and what did Mark say? "I'm sorry, Will. I thought you heard me."

I didn't have to come in today. The bastard was looking at LAST WEEK'S SCHEDULE.