I could really use your help right now

Guys, please pray for my Gran,
Her name is Shirley Michie. I just found out she has breast cancer.
She's going to have surgery Friday morning to hopefully remove all of it. I don't know if she'll have to have chemo but I hope not. Please pray for her guys, she's the heart of my family and I don't know who we'll be without her.

Not a mind reader, just a waitress

I HATE IT when people won't tell you what they mean!
I work at U.P.D., University Pizza and Deli. and I love working there. I love the labor of working in a restaurant and I did love the people. Actually the thing is I still do, they're really an very interesting bunch of characters, no matter the current frustrations. Here is what has been happening, just the facts, so you can tell me what you think should be done in a situation like this
When I came back to school after break though I wasn't on the schedule. No problem, there was just a class and work hours conflict. I talked to my boss and manager about it and then rearranged my classes so I could work. I was promised a place on the schedule the next week, and got a few hours helping out at lunch time.
On the last shift I worked I had a spat with a coworker. She was new, and working the cash register while I served out the food. I noticed she was writing down a whole line of people's tickets before she would take the stack of them back to the kitchen for the two cooks to whip up all at once, and for me to dole out all at once. This also means that the person at the front of the line waits longer than the person at the back of the line. It was the first mistake I ever made on my first day and Akram had quickly got onto me about it. But Akram wasn't there and so I told her, but she began arguing with me. So I, taken aback, repeated the above logic a bit more concisely and then rushed to deliver the pizza that had just come out. When I came back though she was doing the same thing. I don't remember what I said first but she started to argue with me a little louder, though in the crowded restaurant no voice could dominate. I argued back. I was angry. I don't remember if I yelled or not but I'll admit it's possible. After work she asked me not to yell at her like that and I told her the truth. "I am sorry, I did not realize I was yelling."
Then I continued doing my job.
The very next week though I still wasn't on the schedule. Further more the restaurant has even hired a new waitress. At first I thought that because of this and the fact that Akram, my boss had just laid off a cook recently I thought I was next in line. But after a week passed with no explanation I went to my boss who told me again that he would talk to Kynsie my manager and get me on the schedule. He also made some remark about working as a team and not yelling but it was not specific enough for me to legitimately respond to it more than an "of course" I am not worried about Akram though, he is a good man and i know he gives everyone the benefit of the doubt.
Still I wondered about his words so I found my manager on facebook and sent her this message:
"

Hey,
Is something going on at work?
I've asked to be on the schedule and even switched around my classes so that I could be on the schedule and I'm not.
I just want to know whats going on. If you can't put me on the schedule that's fine I'd just like to know for sure so that I can find another job soon if I have to, and if I've done something wrong with work I really want to know so that I can make it better. I like this job and I'll do what it takes to get the work done I just need some clarity here, what is going on?"

This is her reply: "First of all, i DO NOT

appreciate being confronted about work stuff in my private life (here on face book for example). Secondly I'm just not sure why you have not caught on yet but whatever, I am not going to put you on the schedule. And i will not be responding to any work related messages you send me on face book."
"Sorry" I said, I just kept missing you at work."
So tomorrow I'm going to UPD to ask her, is this a temporary lay off? Can I feel free to find another job or I am I suddenly going to appear on the schedule one day with no notification like how I was suddenly dropped from it? Also, WHY am I not on the schedule. Just give me something! If I don't do my job right, tell me so I can do better. If my coworker has blown that little incident out of proportion let me defend myself or apologize again if need be, and if its simply just that they can't afford or have to many waitress, I still would like to know so I can stop wondering! I JUST WANT TO DO MY JOB! I have no other motives than that. I can't read minds and just want some answers!

First Creative Writing Class Assignment

A mother and her daughter are walking in crowded mall. “Keep up,” the mother says and looks back down at the shopping list in her hand. The little girl widens her stride, putting her feet down heel to toe so that her white tennis shoes make a clip clopping against the pale beige tile floor.
“When can we go to the toy store?” she complains, in the typical fashion of seven year olds who are forced to spend hours looking at clothes, appliances and posh knickknacks.
“We don't have enough time to go to the toy store, I've got to get home and make dinner.” The little girl's mouth pokes out a bit but she doesn't say anything. Then the woman slows and the little girl is a few steps in front of her before she looks back. With the look of someone who has just forgotten something and then remembered it, she asks, “You know how you told me that Renee in your class got her ear's pierced?” The little girl makes a face at the sound of her enemy’s name, but the mother doesn‘t notice.
“Yeah, so?”
“Have you thought anymore about getting your ears pierced?”
“Ugh, Mom! I really don't want to!” she says as she arches her back and sticks out her neck in frustration. She had thought this conversation was over. The choice between beauty and needles was an obvious one to her.
“It doesn't hurt like a real shot, I've never seen anyone cry about it.” The little girl looked up at her mother's face.
“It doesn't?” she asked quietly.
“No, and I've been with dozens of people to get their ears pierced.” She stopped in front of a store with a lurid pink canopy. “Come on, you can at least look.” But the girl takes a step back
“No” she says looking pleadingly up into her mother's eyes.
The mother sighs, “You don't have to get your ear's pierced if you don't want to but at least look around before you make your decision.” The child however, doesn’t move.
“You promise?”
“Promise what?”
“You promise that I don't have to get them pierced if I don't want to?” The mother rubs her eyes.
“I promise. It's your decision. Just at least give it a chance, okay? This store will pierce your ears for you if you want, and you can see all the cool earrings you could wear if you did.”
The girl hesitates for a second and then nods. The two walk into the store. Towers of swirving shelves crowd the center, and plastic jewelry, in every color but pastel, covers the walls, stopping only at the borders of posters where young girls sport the jewelry in livid colors. To the daughter, the poster girls look tall and adult. Her eyes follow the contours of their unnaturally skinny eyebrows.
The mother, however, glances up at the posters and frowns. The models look like children to her, sporting breasts too big for their thin frames. She looks down at her own daughter, a crease between her eyes “Remember, you don't have to do this if you don't want to.” The daughter nods but her eyes are fixed on the colorful walls. She runs her fingers through the rainbow of beads and walks down the wall as the mother bites her lip. Everyone was getting their ears pierced at a young age now but maybe…
Another mother and daughter, both with frizzy red hair come in and walk to the center of the store. The girl climbs up into the red velvet chair, her arms quivering. The red headed mother speaks to the teenager behind the desk. The skinny teen nods and pulls out what looks like a hot glue gun from under the desk. The mother looks away from the two red heads back to her own daughter but she is still looking at the walls. She hasn't noticed them yet.
The mother watches as the red headed girl has her ear lobes cleaned, as the teen clerk, looking nearly as scared as the child, marks the spot with a felt tipped marker. Then the clerk puts the gun to the red haired girl’s head and pushes the button. It makes a loud crank and the little redhead jumps. For a split second there is silence. And then the red head begins to cry. Breathing hard the mother looks around for her own daughter. There she is, standing horror stuck at the thin trail of blood that had traveled down from the red head's ear onto her white shirt.
The clerk, with her hands shaking, is saying they had to try again, and the red headed mother is nodding with her sobbing daughter in her arms. But her own daughter is running out of the store and she has to follow. She catches up with her outside, her thin chest breathing hard.
“Don't take me there again.” the little girl says. The mother nods, and looking nearly as relieved as her daughter, puts her shopping list into her pocket and takes her daughter's hand. “Come on, we're going home.”