Okay, so there is this girl I work with who is infatuated with Less Than Jake. She talks about that band ALL the time. So after hearing her mention them forever, and never having heard anything by them, I found some Less Than Jake songs.
I was not impressed.
And most of what I found were cover songs. They mutilated “I would walk 500 miles” and they tortured and raped “Hotel California” which should never be covered anyway. EVER.
I did find one song I sort of liked. “She’s Gonna Break Soon.”
Speaking of songs....
I spent a great deal of time today burning cds and deleting files from my computer. Image files, music files, word documents. A LOT of crap.
I downloaded a new version of Limewire, and deleted my current version, and now the new version won’t install.
Currently I’m trying to re-install the old version.
That’ll teach me to try something newfangled.
I asked for a gazoo yesterday and got it today, as per usual. I hid it inside a bad cover song. I wonder how many people actually GET my gazoos. I wonder how many people even look for them. I don’t understand why they wont give one to Kittyn. -pout-
Today was a day for shit. Fights with the husband, too much laundry, sick dogs. I even missed SBR tonight! Well, I’m missing it right now as I type this because I’m still trying to get limewire to get back on my computer, and my computer can only do one thing at a time.
I’m hoping that getting so much crap off of it will help some.
So, today was the first of two days off in a row this week.
I like getting two days off in a row. Even if they come in the middle of the week, it feels like a real weekend, as opposed to a day off here, and a day off there.
This morning I got up early and went to look at glasses frames.
God, the horror in that.
I don’t even look into my OWN mirrors unless I have to, and I spent so much time sitting in front of this mirror that not only reflected me but MAGNIFIED me while I tried on all these different lenses.
Meanwhile the lady at The Optical Shop was scaring me shitless talking about how I needed as small a frame as possible so my lenses would look thinner.
Now its been YEARS since I wore glasses. I got my contacts my freshman year of HS if I remember correctly, and have not worn glasses since, yet my eyesight has deteriorated over the time.
All her talk about making my lenses appear thin has given me nightmares images of pop-bottle glasses.
You know them right? Maybe you call them fish-bowl glasses. The ones that are as thick as a spiral notebook, and make your eyes look roughly the size of the state of Texas.
Nerd glasses.
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about thinking about the frames making my fat face look even fatter.
Well, pop-bottle glasses and fat face aside I can’t WAIT to get my glasses.
Why?
Because my contacts have now irritated my eyes to the point where I cringe at the thought of having to put them in, and if I wasn’t blind I wouldn’t even wear them around the house. It hurts man, and I mean it HURTS. Especially my left one.
The frames themselves are not awful. Glasses have really come a long way since last time I wore them. I might even put a picture of them up on this blog when I get them. Of course, you’ll get eyes only. I’m not yet willing to share my second chin with you all. (The picture from back when I was in HS doesn’t count.)
What was awful was the price.
The frames and the thinner lightweight lenses together were $325. We agreed the extra expense was worth it because this was a long term deal.
But, add that to the $166 I paid for the initial eye exam and I’ve coughed up almost $1000 for new glasses.
And they wondered why it has been almost 7 years since my last exam. Geeze, what do they think I have a money tree or something?
After I got home from that, my MIL invited me to go out to eat with her and her sister and a friend. They were going to Carey Hilliard’s, which I enjoy, so I said sure, I’d go. I offered to pay for my own, but my MIL wouldn’t let me.
The food was pretty good, but their service was LOUSY!!!! The waitress got a 2 dollar tip, and she only got that because out of the 4 orders she got MY order right. Everything else she fucked up. Including only coming to re-fill our tea glasses once.....after we were pretty much done eating.
I could have forgave it if it was busy or something, but it was pretty dead in there. My husband and I have gone there on a busy Saturday night and got better service than that.
Then there was a veg out period while watching “Mission Organization” then dog washing and laundry. You know. Boring stuff.
Posted by YummY! ::
5:03 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
I do have a Biological Clock After all
So, recently one of my assistant managers announced that she is pregnant.
This woman is positively glowing. I’m heard people talk about people glowing before, but have never witnessed it myself, and this girl is GLOWING. She is so in love with the idea of having a baby.
Sometime around the time she announced she was pregnant, I started noticing pregnant women everywhere.
And shortly after that I found myself thinking odd things. Things beginning with, “When I have my baby....”
My baby? What baby?
Anyone who knows me knows I’m TOTALLY against ever having a child. I’m not wanting that responsibility.
Yet, these thoughts persist.
The other day I found myself looking up fit pregnancy websites, and thinking about how I would have to loose weight and change my lifestyle to have a healthy baby.
Last night I was talking to my mother in law, who BADLY wants a granddaughter, and said, “Well, I might not HAVE a girl, I don’t have a lot of control over that.”
Tonight, while cleaning the breakroom at work, I was daydreaming about reading “Alice in Wonderland” to my daughter and how I am going to read to her every day even when she’s a little baby, just so that she will love books as much as I know she’s going to love movies if she’s her fathers child.
This is getting out of control.
Of course, even though I’ve never wanted a child, I’ve had my kids names picked out.
Monica (whatever my husband wants as the middle name) if it’s a girl, after my best friend.
Robert Wyncell if it’s a boy, after his dad and my dad.
I’ve even broached the thought of sitting down with my husband and asking him if he thinks we should ever have children.
I know from earlier conversations in our relationship that he would like to have kids.
But, I don’t want kids. (Yeah, even now that my damn clock has started ticking I keep telling myself this)
And if I DID want kids, I’d never be able to afford them. I mean, we can hardly even afford for me to get the new glasses I need, and I’m thinking about having a baby.
-sigh-
What has happened to me? Its got to be all those pregnant hormones flowing off my manger, right?
Posted by YummY! ::
8:34 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Friday, March 24, 2006
Double Whammy
1. My brother asked me if I'd support him if he decides to have my father forcibly put into a rehab/mental hospital. I do support that decision, but my heart aches with the fact that it will probably make my father and my other brother hate my brother and me. And it will further tear apart my crumbling family.
2. My aunt has cancer.
I found out both of these things in one conversation.
Today, I was off work. It was nice, but not a “Woohoo!” day or anything.
I slept. I watched TV. I read. I played on the internet. I cooked supper, made a huge mess, and had to clean the kitchen.
I cleaned out my fridge too, and that just added to the mess I had to clean. I was lucky that there were no furry fridge monsters living in the back corners of the icebox. There was, however, a container of sweet potatoes that seemed to have....melted.
I started to weed a place and prepare for my flower garden, but changed my mind. I started to clean off my desk, but changed my mind about that too.
I did do a craft project today. It was sort of small, so maybe it should be called a mini-craft project.
I took a plain wooden box.
I added to it some paint, some felt, some sand, some hot glue, some ribbon, some seashells and some paper fish and I made this.
All together now... "Ohhhh......Ahhhhh!"
Last night I sort of doubtfully sat down to watch “Strange Days” with my husband. I say doubtfully because I’m very cautious when watching a James Cameron film. Why? Because if its anything like “Titanic” then I’m going to run screaming from the room.
The movie was slow, but it had its moments. When it was over I looked at my husband and said, “That didn’t entirely suck, but why is it called Strange Days? Black Jack would have been a much more fitting title.”
He didn’t agree with me, but I still say “Black Jack” is a better title for the film than “Strange Days” is.
Posted by YummY! ::
8:34 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Monday, March 20, 2006
Small Pleasures
I'm a click exchange junkie, I wont even pretend that I'm not. I surf BE and Blog Clicker and Blogazoo, and now there is Blog Mad.
Blog Mad is the new kid on the click exchange block, after months of anticipation, it was open for a while for private testing from early adoptors. Now, today, it opened for Public Beta. That means you can SIGN UP for your own Blog Mad Account if you haven't already. And if you SIGN UP TODAY then you will be able to surf today for double credits.
Double Credits kick ass.
Know what else kicks ass?
I found a Target Gift card on the road between my house and my mother in laws house, and, since it was a cute little white dog, I picked it up, meaning to just keep it becasue it was cute. I was going to use it as a bookmark.
I told my husband I had found it, and he went to target.com to check its balance, not really thinking there was anything on it, but joking that maybe it was a $500 gift card.
Well, it wasn't a $500 card, but it was a $20 card.
Yep. I got a $20 gift card for target out of the middle of the street.
And I will probably use it to buy a pair of jeans, becasue I need a pair of jeans.
And those were the deepest thoughts I could muster today, after getting up to work at 5:30 and working a 12 hour day.
Every once in a while I’ll get a Saturday off. I don’t remember the last time I got a Sunday off. This week...Saturday AND Sunday!
How amazing is that?
So how did I spend this amazing time off?
Doing mundane boring things, as usual.
Robert wanted to go see “V for Vendetta” and I had no interest in it. So, he went to see it with his cousin.
I stayed home, vacuumed the house, washed some clothes. Then I went out with Sheryl. We went to K-mart, Target and the Dollar Tree. I got some new tennis shoes, cause my pinkytoe had escaped my last pair.
At the Dollar Tree (God, I love the Dollar Tree) I got some house stuff mostly, but I did get myself a bar of soap I really like. Yardley Oatmeal and Almond soap. Love it.
Sheryl cooked supper, we ate, I played online. Went to bed.
Yesterday went by way to fast. So did today.
Today we had lunch, then we went to Wal-Mart. Robert was looking for some DVD box set. He didn’t find it, therefore he brought home a different one. Free Enterprise. I oogled some Venus Flytraps and almost bought one, but changed my mind.
After that we went to Lake Mayer and fed the ducks and geese, then to the mall where we bought ice cream cones then browsed around.
My boss called and asked if I could go to Hilton Head with Lonnie again tomorrow and I said I would. Getting up at fucking 5:30am, but its worth it to NOT be a my Michael’s were a lot of little annoying things have gone on sale and I don’t want to have to ring them up.
Last time I went to Hilton Head it was nice to just be able to do my job and not have to be called to the register 400 times or for price checks or to answer customer service calls or to help customers in the store who walk up to me and say, “Do you work here?”.
Just to get there and work.
I really am happiest when I set my mind on a task and can stay on that task until that task is done, without interruption.
That, and I’ll get home before dark. That doesn’t happen too often. -grin-
------ *The picture of the goose. I took that picture. Yep. Thats my goose. I fed it bread. Or I tried to feed it bread, but the little black ducks took it all.
Posted by YummY! ::
4:45 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Thursday, March 16, 2006
A Hungry Monster is Eating my Family
Things are so horribly fucked up.
For a short time there I was actually feeling pretty good. Enjoying my job, and things were going smoothly at home.
Then last Thursday I started feeling down, and like a snowball rolling downhill its just gotten bigger and bigger and bigger.
My eyes hurt. We still haven’t gotten my glasses. Robert and I have been fighting a lot again, and I’ve been dwelling on all the pretty things in life I want that I can’t have and about how its never going to change and I’m never going to be able to outrun the poverty I was born into. I’m not as poor now as I was then, but I’ll certainly never be one of those people who can buy things on a whim.
While money doesn’t mean everything to me, it does mean SOMETHING, and the idea of never being able to have what I want is not a happy making thought.
Now, one of my aunts recently went in to have a gall stone removed and while in there they found a spot on her liver. They think its cancer.
This aunt has had cancer before and beat it. They don’t know if it’s the melanoma back, or something new.
I’ve lost 2 uncles and 1 aunt already to cancer. I’m not looking to loose someone else right now. And there is a dirty, rotten, mean voice in the heart of me that is saying, “At least its her and not the aunt I’m closest to, and not my daddy.”
But, there is a knowledge that one of them will be next. Cancer is a hungry monster who likes the taste of that particular group of siblings.
I need one of those holes.
You know, one of those holes you crawl into and never come out of again.
What I’m trying to do instead is disappear into the internet, but that’s not working today. Not enough is going on to keep me occupied.
So, I’m just sitting here waiting on it to be 9 o’clock so I can listen to Shitty Blogs Radio, and then go to bed.
Tonight is the Listener’s Choice show and I’m interested in seeing which of my suggestions made it into the lineup. Also interested in seeing what the Other SBR listeners asked for.
I wish I could get skype to work for me. I don’t understand why it wont. I set everything up exactly like they told me to. And when that didn’t work I went back and set it the opposite of what they said to do, just to see if that would work. It doesn’t work.
My computer desk is in danger of collapsing. I’ve been trying to get Robert to buy a new one. He doesn’t like any he finds. They are “too long” he says.
We’ll see what’s “too long” when the legs finally collapse out from under this one and everything hits the floor.
I hope he’s ON the computer when it happens. I hope I’m not home though.
Posted by YummY! ::
2:37 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
SBotM and I Say Fuck (A LOT)
Look! I finally made Shitty Blog of the Month. I had decided it was never going to happen, and that I'd have to settle on being the self proclaimed mascot and being able to post at my whim there.
It made me smile.
My SBotM happiness was sullied when the fucking DOOM dvd didn't work.
Beleive it or not I really do want to see DOOM. I wanted to see it in theaters. Like everything else that I want to see that the husband has no interest in, I didn't get to see it then.
Dont get to see it now either.
Of course, when the DVD didn't work, the fucking asswad I married didn't ask me what my second choice would be and just put in what the fuck he wanted to watch.
It really fucking pissed me off.
I'm so pissed of, in fact, that I'm going to go to bed now.
I have no interest whatsoever in Mad Max 3, and I'm fucking sick and goddamn tired of having to sit here and listen to fucking bullshit that I don't want to fucking listen to any more than I want to fucking watch. Goddamn fucking bad and really fucking annoying movie music at a volume so high I can't even turn my fucking headphones up enough to drown the fucking shit out.
God-fucking-damn I'm sick and fucking tired of all his fucking bullshit.
Goodnight.
PS. Utopia...when are you gonna get I Say Fuck off the ground? I'm all sweaty with anticipation.
Posted by YummY! ::
8:48 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
I'm not an ass, I just play on on the SBC.
Last night my husband and I watched a cinematic masterpiece called “The Blair Thumb.”
See, there’s this guy named Steve Oedekerk who makes fun of movies, using thumbs. My husband thinks these movies are the hight of wit. “Thumbwars” of course is his favorite, and in a moment of weakness I bought him “Bat Thumb” and when our local Media Play went out of business he bought “The Blair Thumb” and we just got around to watching it.
I wanted to watch “Doom” but was vetoed (much to no one’s surprise, I’m sure.)
The ONLY good thing about the entire thing was the following lines:
“Sure, the tent is safe. Nothing can get through the nylon.”
It was smothered in sarcasm. I loved it.
So, tonight I was a bit of a slacker at work. I mean, I did all my real work, and I even put up some returns and recovered the seasonal areas, but it hit 8:30 and then I didn’t do a damn thing the rest of the night except talk.
I’ve been in one of those moods lately where they are lucky I make it to work at all. I’ve been feeling rather blah.
I asked Ashley’s opinion on whether orange rocks or painted dots looked better on my journal cover, and told her that YummY! Was one of my online personalities and even mentioned the Shitty Blogs Club to her.
See, Jeckles, you even have me pimping your shit in real life.
God, I suck.
Now, its started heating up in the house something awful, but electric prices are heinous, so we’ve been opening windows after sundown to let the cool in.
That would be okay, except for one thing....
There is a Jack Russel Terrier who lives down the street from us who will not shut the fuck up.
Yap, yapyapyap. Yap, yapyapyap. Yap, yapyapyap.
I’ve heard that CONSTANTLY since I got home.
These people are INSANE. How can they listen to that themselves? I guess the same way my next door neighbors can listen to THIER dog bark constantly. It just makes me want to throttle the animals and the people that own them.
Not that my dogs never bark, but when they do bark I either make them hush up, or make them come inside.
I never liked Jack Russels anyway.
Oh, and I’ve got a gazoo for you. Its being guarded by a huge and vicious dog. Can you find it?
Posted by YummY! ::
7:57 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Um, Dear, There's a Rat in the Tub
WAIT!
I don’t think I’ve talked much about Buddy here. I talk a lot about my girls, and poor Buddy gets left out.
Buddy is my boy rat. He’s a BIG boy. In his prime he was roughly the size of a baby bunny. Now he’s an old fella, roughly the size of a...well, a big rat.
He’s an old fella. I can’t remember if he’s 2 or 3 years old, cause I don’t do the numbers so well, but, old rat. My oldest rat. He’s been around a long time.
And he got mites.
Mites can sometimes be found in the bedding used to line small pet cages. Normal, young, healthy pets are never really bothered by them, but they can overwhelm an older rat.
Last night I held Buddy, laid my cheek against him, and when I leaned back up, the side of my face was covered with mites.
EEEEEKKKK!!!
Well, that was about 2am this morning. I just put him back in his cage. Mites wouldn’t do him any real damage that quickly. I said I’d fix it up when I got up.
Well, I slept late.
So it had to wail till after work today.
Work was a bitch. When I got home tonight I was plum exhausted.
But my boy needed fixing, so I had to do it.
So, I was sitting on the end of the bed, taking my shoes off and going over in my head what I had to do.
I had to clean the girls first, then the mice, then Buddy. The cages would need DEEP cleaning, not just and easy clean. I would have to bathe Buddy, then I would have to vacuum the room, then I would have to bathe me. Then I could eat.
Eat?
FUCK! I had to wash dishes.
“Goddamn it!” I screamed, then I laid down and cried from the idea of everything I had to do because I was just too fucking tired to keep moving, but I had no choice in the matter.
My husband took pity on me and told me not to wash dishes. Not that HE is going to wash them, I just don’t have to was them tonight. I’ll just have to do it tomorrow.
Oh well...better than nothing.
So I got my rats cleaned, got the cages cleaned, got buddy washed, got the floor vacuumed, got me washed.
Its 11:25 now. I still haven’t gotten anything to eat. I’m too tired to cook. I’m too tired to make a sandwich.
But....Buddy’s mites should be gone now. Although he’s angry at me.
This is an old picture of me. I’m the one on the left. Yeah. Point. Laugh. Make fat jokes.
I was still in highschool. The people on the sofa with me are 3 of my closest cousins. The boy sitting right next to me is this guy. I have many fond memories of growing up with him, and its hard for me to believe that he’s in his 20s now.
I guess that makes me old.
I don’t know if you can tell from this picture, but my eyes are baggy and bloodshot. I had just found out that day that my first and only boyfriend to that point in my life was seeing another girl. I wasn’t even his FIRST. He was ENGAGED to this girl and cheating on her with me.
That was the guy I lost my virginity to.
Up until that point I’d merely been unhappy in the same way that every teenager is unhappy.
What makes this picture worth sharing is the fact that it was taken on the EXACT day that I began to suffer from depression, REAL depression and not just teenaged angst, for the first time.
Why am I telling you all of this?
Of all things, a shitty e-mail I sent in to SBR tonight got me all nostalgic, not so much when I wrote it, but when I heard Jeckles rushing thought it cause he didn’t care about it as much as the one where I said he does it for me.
Its my fault thought, I talked about Monica.
This is Monica:
She the one on the right in this picture. The girl on the left is alive and well and we still talk to this very day through the internet.
Or I should say that was Moncia. This is as close to Monica as I can get now.
She died in 2002, at the ripe old age of 23.
She was one of the last really great things I had in my life, and like everything she was taken away from me way too soon.
The day that picture of my cousins and me was taken was the day I became pessimistic. It was the day I quit caring for the world at large. It was the day that I started seeing my life as a series of losses.
They day Monica died, I spent hours on the phone talking to a man I had never met, a man she was living with at the time. This total stranger was the person who cracked my world in half, and he was the only person who had the slightest idea how bad I hurt, the only person who could offer me the least little bit of comfort.
The last good thing in my life had been taken away from me. And, like my virginity, its something I can never get back.
I don’t think my family ever liked Monica, except maybe one of my brothers and the male cousin in that first picture.
Fast forward 4 years to the present day and the heartbreak I felt in that picture has multiplied over and over. Added to it is the death of my grandmother, one of the aunts I held closest to my heart, and my best friend, and many other hurts, major and minor.
Yeah, I’m depressed. “Officially” depressed. Its much worse now than it was the day that pitcture of me was taken. Only I can’t afford the “happy pills” that so many people take for granted, so I sludge through my life in this depression while people are telling me to just get over it.
I'm sure there are some of you out there who know what is like to try to functuion like a normal human being when you dont even want to EXIST anymore.
My family, the people I should be able to turn to when I need comfort the most, tell me I’m not depressed. I’m “choosing” to remain unhappy because I want pitty.
All of that is old shit, but I’m still pissed off about it. Mainly because these people will never know the hurt that I know so they will always think I’m nothing more than a drama queen. Yeah, I’m over dramatic, but that doesn’t mean I feel it any less.
Choosing to be unhappy. If I ever did work up the nerve to kill myself (the only thing stopping me is the fear of the unknown after death. If I’m on my way to hell I don’t want to speed along the process, no matter how much I hurt in and hate this life) I bet they’d put that on my headstone. “Here lies YummY! She selfishly chose to be unhappy and overdramatically commited suicide.”
And trust me, I’d rather have true happiness than false pitty any day. I can’t have the happiness, so I’ll take the pity.
Oh, Monica died the year that my husband and I got married. I got married that January. She died that February. She knew I was engaged, but I never even got to tell her I had gotten married. She never got to tell me she was engaged. Her fiance told me that on the phone, the day he told me we didn't have her anymore.
So, how do you feel about THAT look into my life?
Are you depressed yet, or are you laughing at the drama queen begging for pitty?
It’s a bit you’ll probably hear again. Several times a year I start missing her badly. REALLY missing her. I usually try not to blog about it though.....thank god for small favors, right?
Posted by YummY! ::
9:33 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Monday, March 06, 2006
YummY! The Four Eyed Freak
I don’t like going to new doctors.
I don’t think anyone does, really.
But since that time about 3 years ago now (I think) when they discovered and abnormal lump in my tummy and I went to a new doctor about once a week and had the fingers of EVERY gyno in Chatham county up my vagina, I’m new-doctor phobic.
I remember finally drawing the line and telling the last doctor, the one that finally did my surgery, that I refused to take my panties off until he would tell me he wasn’t going to send me to someone else because I was tired of being felt up by strangers.
What I’m getting at is...I went to a new doctor today.
My husbands optometrist. Because he doesn’t think that it’s a good idea to drive all the way to Dublin so I can see Dr. Whitaker when there are capable optometrists right here in Savannah.
See, I’m comfortable with Dr. Whitaker. I’ve not been to see him since 1999, but I know his waiting room. I know his exam room. I know that I can see the hair in his nose when he leans close to my face. I know that he breath doesn’t stink.
On the bright side, at least an eye exam doesn’t call for personal groping.
So, I had an appointment with Dr. Croll at 9:45 this morning. I had to go do all that new patient paperwork. Then I had to wait.
I got called into different exam rooms and sent back to the waiting room several times. I had about half a dozen different bright and painful lights shined in my eyes. I got to see Dr. Croll herself for about all of 10 minutes, if that long.
The result one one hell of a headache caused by the various light sources shined into my eyes.
I was scolded for it being so long between eye exams. I was told to get a pair of glasses and to NOT wear my contacts as often as I have been.
I was also told that my left contact is so warped that they can’t even get a reading on it...whatever the fuck that means.
So, I was told to wear my contacts until I get glasses, then wear glasses some, and I can make another appointment to get fitted for new contacts if I want, but a pair of glasses is a must.
Today’s visit costed me $166, so I don’t see another visit in my near future.
I may be wearing glasses again in a bit for quite a while.
I hate that. I have a round face. A fat face. Fat faces, as a rule, look even fatter with glasses on. Yuck!
I’m doomed.
Meanwhile, I get to leave the Dr. Croll's office at 11:30 with a pounding headache caused by the multitude of bright lights shined in my eyes, and dilated pupils.
They even sent me out into the bright sunshine without those flimsy paper and plastic shades that I always got from Dr. Whitaker. That really, really, REALLY hurt.
I looked at myself in the mirror when I got home, and thought of evil black eyed witches and shit. My pupils were HUGE and had a small light blue ring around them. It was sort of neat looking.
I would have gotten my photographer husband to take a picture of my kick-ass evil eyes, but the pain that would have been caused by the flash probably would have landed me in an asylum somewhere.
Posted by YummY! ::
2:39 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Friday, March 03, 2006
You'r Friendly Neighborhood Bomb Squad
So, today on the way to work I saw a large square truck that had large letters on the side of it.
CHATHAM COUNTY BOMB SQUAD
For some reason that pleased me. It made me almost as happy as the day that I saw a truck that said “Cryogenics” on the side of it.
Yes, I’m easily amused. I can’t even tell you WHY the bomb squad truck amused me, but it did.
Meanwhile, I actually GOT to work and...it was work. I set myself upon one task in a neglected area of the store. My boss told me good job, then told me to go work elsewhere in the store.
I would go into more detail, but really, who the fuck cares?
What I want to talk about is the lady that came through my line today. She looked horrible. Not “oh my god that lady is hideous” horrible but ‘oh my god, my best friend just died.’ horrible.
I said my usual, “Hi, how are you today,” as I was ringing her purchase and she started talking.
You know, as a whole, I hate customers, but today I felt like the friendly neighborhood barkeep as she poured her heart out to me.
She said she wasn’t doing so good, that she had just left the hospital where her friend was. Her friend who was 40 years old, and had just miscarried her child. It would have been her friends FIRST child. A child who would have had severe Downs Syndrome if it had been born. She said it was really a blessing that the child had miscarried, but she still felt horrible for her friend, and her fried felt worse of all.
She then went on to tell me that she had miscarried her own child 3 months ago so she knew what her friend was going through. She told me that the biggest difference was that her friends had been a natural pregnancy after years of trying, and her own child had been from having the expensive “getchapregnant” shots.
I’ve been thinking about that woman and her friend ever since.
I’ve always felt an ache for women who want so badly to have children, but can’t for some reason or another.
Its odd that I should sympathize for them, since I have no urge to have children of my own. Ever. I don’t know what its like to actually WANT a child, but I hurt for the people who want children but can’t have them.
Posted by YummY! ::
9:15 PM ::
|
---------------oOo---------------
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Canned?
So, at a quarter till 3 today I hear my name on the intercom. It wasn’t a code 3. It wasn’t you have a call on line one. It wasn’t customer assistance. It wasn’t for a price check. It wasn’t for me to report to receiving.
It was none of the usual places they call me to be.
The intercom said, “Come to the classroom please.”
The classroom is often used as a conference room if there’s not a class or party going on it in. I’m not important enough to be needed in a conference.
My panicky little voice in the back of my head said, “this is bad.”
I went to the classroom.
The store manager was in there. So was the second in command, Lonnie (who I work directly under), and so was Vanessa, one of the assistant managers I work with a lot.
Ted, the store manager, told me to have a seat. Vanessa just looked at me. Lonnie closed the door behind me and stood by it with his arms crossed. Everyone looked very serious.
I sat down. My panicky little voice was a wreck repeating, “This is bad. Oh, this is bad. This can’t end well. What did you do? WHAT DI D YOU DO!?!”
Ted starts talking about how he knows I’ve been with the store for a while now. He said he knows I was part of the mass hire to build the new store and how I had been kept on. He told me how he knows I’m a hard worker and how everyone agrees I’m a hard worker.
He’s bragging about me too much.
I was thinking about Ted telling me two days ago, when I asked for a certain day off, that there were going to be some major changes in the store soon and how they would directly effect me. I remember that they’re recently hired 4 new people. I remember that I’ve been getting fewer hours than usual the past couple of week.
My panicky little voice in the back of my head had sat down and started crying.
My brain was already ticking off the places I can start applying too. One of the vets was hiring recently, maybe they still were.
Ted and Lonnie and Vanessa were all agreeing how I’m such a hard worker and how its great that I can multi-task and that they all appreciate what I do for the store.
I was waiting for the but. The big but. The but that would go....”BUT...we’re going to have to let you go.”
See, I’m a horrible pessimist. I can’t help myself.
But, being a pessimist like me you’re not as crushed when bad shit happens as you would be if you were an optimist.
It also means that when the bad shit DOESN’T happen, then you get a pleasant suprise and a high that lasts for a few hours.
I did not get fired.
What I got was promoted. Or the retail equivalent of promoted.
I got bumped from being ALMOST part time (30 - 35 hours a week) to being full time (40 hours). That means I’ll eventually (in about a year) start getting benefits, like paid vacation days and paid sick days!
Oh, and I get a raise too. He didn’t say how much, but he definitely said raise.
So, there, a little non-bitter post from me. Enjoy it, it doesn’t happen often.
Posted by YummY! ::
7:17 PM ::
|
After that we went to Lake Mayer and fed the ducks and geese, then to the mall where we bought ice cream cones then browsed around.
Last night my husband and I watched a cinematic masterpiece called “The Blair Thumb.”
