lykomancer: (Head-Tilt?)
Ugh. I'm now working full-time, and my new regular shift is 6 am to 2 pm. I hate it less than doing a mid-shift, though, so I'm not bitching too hard. (Jinya is. She really dislikes my new schedule, because I have to go to bed so early that it's hard for us to do anything together.)

God, I love sleep. I think I love sleep more than sex. Of course, it's been so long since I've had sex I'm not sure if I even remember what I'm missing. *le sigh*

Speaking of, Jinya is once more dealing with receiving too many offers of dates/too much interest. Considering that no one's flirted with me, shown any interest in me at all, asked me out, or tried to set me up in something like five solid years, I'm having trouble empathizing.

Sweet Jesus, this last week was stupid-hot. Heat indexes over 100. Nasty muggy wet heat. Most of the summer was a gorgeous, breezy 70 to mild 80, and then suddenly this gross shit. Ugh.

Rescued stray orange tabby Taffy has adjusted well. She's put on a lot of weight; her coat's filled in and gotten glossy; her ears are clean and her breath smells a lot better. She no longer hisses at the other cats much, and even when she does, it's just rote habit; she's not actually bothered by them anymore. She finally became healthy/energetic enough to start playing, too, and she's still a total cuddle-bug.

Our two enormous oscars seem to be done trying to out-dominate each other for the moment. They've gotten into few fights-- epic, water-sloshing boxing matches-- which resulted in a few missing scales and a few rips in fins-- nothing major. Most of their confrontations have been the fish equivalent of, "COME AT ME, BRO!" Interestingly, Rudy now goes belly-up everytime the Admiral approaches. She looks like a submissive dog, and I wonder if that's how oscars indicate submission, too.

We tried getting feeder fish at PetSmart in Faribault the other day. The service was so bad I thought Jinya's head was going to turn 365 degrees and pop off in a shower of magma. We got in there just behind a woman and her litter of seven kids (?!). There were only two employees in the store: one was tied up with that woman, and the other couldn't leave the register. Now, I understand, "I'm sorry, but I have to stay by the registers"-- I do. But the registers are only twenty feet from the fish tanks, and there's a clear view that whole way. She could have easily helped us quickly while keeping an eye on things. NO ONE CAME IN ANYWAY.

So we told her that we'd do a few other errands and come back, and asked if it was possible to have twenty feeder fish bagged up by the time we got back.

When we came back, we found the one employee had freed herself from the woman and her kids, and was dipping our fish.


Like, not scooping out a bunch at a time, but dipping single fish. Why? She was trying to get a particular color. What the ever loving fuck. It took FOREVER.

And meanwhile, the children are everywhere, asking nonstop questions. Rather than watch the employee get distracted AND give out incorrect information, Jinya was fielding all of their inquiries while the employee carefully caught individual fish and bagged them up. (Twice. The first bag leaked.)

By the time we left, Jinya was apoplectic. Kept screaming, "THEY'RE GONNA GET TWO THOUSAND MORE IN TWO DAYS! I DON'T CARE IF THE KIDS LIKE 'THE PRETTY ONES'! THEY'RE FEEDER FISH!" It was pretty funny.

My boss's boss's boss was in the other day. What a douche. He wasn't directly douchey to me-- unless you count the number of time he asked me about finishing a planogram I started before he came (aka: when I was NOT the only person on the floor) while simultaneously depriving me of everyone else that could help me do customer service. Seriously. He took Adam, which left me and Toni...and then he took Toni, too. So I was the only person helping customers and ringing people up. And he has the balls to ask me why my plano wasn't getting done? *smh* F'r fuck's sake.

Mostly though, it was listening to him high-handedly explain everything that's wrong, everything that needs fixing, and everything we should be doing, and then watching him leave. Oh yes, he knows what's best alright. *eyeroll* Oh, and of course we're cutting hours, so he wants ten times the amount of work done with a smaller crew, while providing excellent customer service. Dude. Saved payroll, good customer service, all tasks around the store being completed several times a day: pick one and a half. You can't have all three. It doesn't work that way.

I haven't been keeping up well with folks online. My apologies. I've been working and sleeping and trying to lose myself in fictional worlds again. It's been so damn hot I'm unmotivated to do anything other than shower and sleep and stare blankly at the screen. I'm not depressed; just lazy.
lykomancer: (Zuko Drama and WTFry)
I seriously want to kill one of my coworkers.

He's not a bad guy. He's friendly. He's agreeable.

It's just that Dana's got the brains of a Labrador retriever.

So he's just annoying as all high fuck. He has absolutely no sense of urgency whatsoever. Give him a task-- any task, regardless of how simple-- and he will take three hours or more to get it done...if he gets it done at all. He stands around chatting all the time. If you start talking to him about something and the phone rings, he needs you to not just stop talking to him and ask him to answer it, but you need to practically scream at him to answer before he even looks at it.

I flat-out told Toni that if I had to set ad with him again soon, I'd flip my fucking shit. Setting ad takes about three and a half hours every Saturday night. We start at 5; we close at 7; and it's all supposed to be done by 8:30. If we get done sooner, we go home sooner, but it's rare to get done earlier than quarter to 8.

Unless fucking Dana's there. The last three times I set ad with him, we didn't get done any earlier than 9. Last Saturday-- not yesterday, but last week-- was 9:26. NINE FUCKING TWENTY-SIX. HE WAS STILL DOING FUCKING NINE-UPS AT 9:10! JESUS H FLYING CHRIST-CRISPIES.

We're supposed to report every instance where we talk to a customer in electronics or furniture and report whether we made a sale or not. There's not really any pressure, but corporate is trying to estimate how many sales we close vs. how many opportunities we have. To get an accurate number, we're supposed to report every conversation, no matter how short or if the customer is "just looking". I'm fairly good about this, so my opportunity to close rate is something like 5:1 or so.

Dana's opportunity to close rate is something like 7:6, which makes me strongly suspect that he's not reporting every opportunity. Yeah, he's apparently good at sales-- it's the only thing he's good at-- and maybe he got a wave of good luck yesterday, but those numbers seem unusually good.

Just... Just everything. Everything he does makes me want to slap the shit out of him. I want to cut his face up with pieces of glass.


In other news, I haven't expressed my love for Toni here.
Toni's management.
She just turned 24, which I managed to guess simply because I already knew she was 25 or younger. However, she acts like... I don't know how to phrase this. She acts like a Real Adult. Like a really Real Adult, more so that just about every other person I've EVER met, regardless of age or station.

She's also terrifying.

I'm not frightened of many people. I think I can count the list of people who scare me on two fingers. And Toni's one of those two.

It took me months to figure out her sense of humor, but once I did, I wasn't scared witless of her like I was at the beginning. Now I'm just intimidated-awed-obedient. However, we do get along decently. Before both Tim and Bethany left (*sadface*), they both separately reported that Toni liked me. I'm Cool with that. I Do Not Want to Piss Toni Off, because I have an active survival instinct which informs me that doing so would be a Critical Error.

I gotta admit, it's weird. I'm so unused to being scared or intimidated of anyone, of feeling like someone's really earned my respect and obedience, that there's a weird, erotic undertone to my response. That is what a Dominant is supposed to be like. Right there.

Back off to work. With luck, Dana's not there today. I don't want to spend my shift murderous.


Apr. 2nd, 2013 11:15 am
lykomancer: (Exhausted- Ed)
I don't know if this is physical depression with none of the mental static or some sub-symptomatic infection I'm fighting off, or what, but I feel like re-heated sludge.

I'm not actually sick. I have a little bit of nasal drain and a slight moderate nasty cough despite having only smoked one cigarette in over a week, but that's not real sickness. What I do have is the body-weary, perpetually exhausted feeling of generalized malaise. All I want to do is sleep-- or at least lay down and not move. I just feel icky.

I'm trying to decide if I'm going to work tonight or not.
On one hand, I'm not actually sick; I should save my sick days for when I am actually sick; this will be the second time I've called in in four months*; it's a short shift, and I've just had two days off and I have tomorrow off too.
On the other hand, I feel dumb and unfocused and exhausted and pretty lousey, and and if I call in today, they might think that I've been sick for a few days because they haven't seen me**. (It looks bad to call in sick and then turn up at work the next day looking fine.)

EDIT: Never mind. I think I may be in the process of losing the fight against some illness. In under an hour, my cough as progressed from "yeah, I have one" to being bad enough to make me retch and vomit up mucus and the few sips of tea I'd taken, and I'm starting to feel something suspiciously like chills. -_-
Okay, then.

* The first time was after I fell three times on my way to the bus stop and had wrenched my hip and smashed my head and knee on concrete. I was filthy, wet, bleeding, and in pain. Yeah, I skipped work that day.

** Two of my managers had the flu last week-- really nasty flu. My immune system might be trying to deal with exposure to that; I don't know. But no one would be surprised if I called in since there's been so much sickness going around.
lykomancer: (Sword Dancer)
I think I weirded out a coworker yesterday. He was talking about some films he has to watch for class. I asked, "What titles?" and he responded, "Ma Vie En Rose or something like that." I then proceeded to squee, "I love that movie!"

I'm pretty sure he thought I was joking, and I so wasn't.

So I've been at OfficeMax for over three months now. Things are going fairly well. I have some issues with management-- occasionally they get it into their heads to tell us to do three different things at the same time-- but it's short-term, minor annoyances. My coworkers are a lively bunch, overall, and I get along well with most of them.

There is one woman that I just roll my eyes at. Kristie's four years older than me and she's... How to put this? Gone full-on adult-mode power wife. I highly doubt anyone would put us in the same age bracket: she's tanned (and with the beginnings of skin damage from tanning) and covered in make-up, with high-lights in her hair-- she looks like a woman trying too hard, in my opinion. Her main hobbies seem to be her family, her daughter's softball, and working.

She seems to really hate my casual intelligence. (That sounds like braggadocio, I know.) She gets snippy and mocking when I talk about learning languages, for example. Another coworker is an immigrant from Somalia (he's lived here for eight years), and he's been half-assedly teaching me Somali-- some casual phrases, that sort of stuff. Last night he was showing me Arabic writing, and Kristie was just, "That's not a word! That's just a bunch of lines and dots. It's a smiley face! That isn't a word!" until I finally wrote a few words in English, pointed at them, as said, "Do you think those lines and dots are words? It's no different."

And she calls herself "old" a lot. Which is primarily annoying because she's only four years older than me. If she's old, I'm old. And I am not old.
She has these strict lines on what she will or will not do based on some arbitrary age limit or something. Sports are okay, but climbing trees is something she's too old for. Things like that. She's just so...stick-in-the-mud. Of course, I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm off my rocker.

Everyone else is fun to work with, and by now I feel comfortable selling and all that. Store manager's already considering promoting me.
lykomancer: (Default)
Holidays starting.
Oh god, I hate holiday season.

I hate all the flaming imbeciles that come to the Mall of America on a Saturday in December and then cluelessly ask me, "Is is always this busy?"


I hate all the morons that come to the Mall of America on a Saturday in December and then demand to know how we possibly could be sold out of [X]. DIDN'T WE KNOW IT WAS GOING TO BE POPULAR!? WHY DIDN'T WE STOCK OVER 9,000!?


I hate-- oh god, HAAAAAAAAAAAATE-- all the people who come to the music department with an armload of books and excuse themselves by whining, "The line up front is soooooooo long!"

ALKJGDHLKDFGsdlfkjsldfkjslkajsdlkJLKWRAGERAGERAGE. I FUCKING HATE YOU. WHY DOES EVERY SINGLE PERSON NEED TO SAY THIS!? WHY!? WHY?! I know the line up front is long, you fucking dipwad-- it's the Mall of America on a Saturday in December. NO SHIT, THE LINE IS LONG. But there are nine people up there ringing as fast as humanly possible and usually also a line manager. Back here, there's JUST ME. DOING EVERYTHING: shelving, cleaning, answering questions, finding things, preventing shrink, and ringing. I guaran-fucking-tee you that the line up front, no matter how long, will be quicker than waiting for me.

"It's not the 'holidays'; it's Christmas!"

...fuck you, lady. I'm Jewish.
(No, I'm not, but I am for every heinous bitch that tries to correct my offensively PC "Happy Holidays" into a "Merry Christmas". NO. I want to say "Happy Holidays." AND I WILL. AND YOU CAN BITE MY PASTY WHITE ASS.)

I hate the rampant consumerism. I hate the rush and impatience and rudeness. I hate the overstimulation and expectation. I hate the self-importance.
I hate the way people admit to buying things for other people simply because of the obligation-- not because they care or they want to or they saw the perfect gift. No. Obligation. I have to.
UGH. No. You don't. Stop it.

For the next month, it's all black and emo eyeliner for me.
lykomancer: (Today's To-Do List)
Let me predict for you my half of the dialogue for most of my day:

"Maybe, that depends."
"If your name is on this list."
"Well, did you reserve a copy of the book at this store?"
"Then no, sorry."
"I didn't do it. Blame corporate for not ordering enough."
"Sorry, man."
"Sure you can talk to a manager."
lykomancer: (Happiness)
Strangely, I feel a lot better today than I have for a while. I was reading some of last holiday's LJ posts, and for some reason now I feel almost cheerful and nearly willing to go into work tonight; maybe it's some twisted form of nostalgia on my part, I don't know.

(Or maybe it was getting to sleep in for two days in a row, really phenomenal sex last night-- nnnnggggghhh, that was good--, Randy seeming to slowly come around to the fact that he's starting to reciprocate some feelings for me, or the fact that I spent most of yesterday stoned out of my god-forsaken mind.

Eh. Whatever. *shrugs*)

Tomorrow I have a doctor's appointment for my knee. Friday I pay bills. Sunday is the holiday meeting at work (oh...goodie). Things will start settling into a pattern soon.


Sep. 24th, 2007 10:18 am
lykomancer: (Rock-bottom)
Tried to eat breakfast. It didn't go down very easily.

Went to work. Managed to get office shit done.
Promptly got told to go home and got a ride from Manager Dan.

I think I'm going back to bed.

[EDIT: Annnnnnd, yup, the guy scheduled to paint the windows had to come by today. No rest for the wicked.]
lykomancer: (I Love My Job...)
Since being at cashwrap for a few months, I have a new round of complaints about people's behavior...

Don't be an asshole. )

11) The line is down there. Please go wait in line. Those other people were waiting first. GO WAIT IN THE DAMNED LINE.
lykomancer: (Stained)
Ehhhhhh... Life's not fun right now.
Life is, in fact, a pain in the ass.

I'm really fucking tired, and my hips hurt badly enough that I caught myself limping on the way home, this was the longest five hour shift EVER, and I got to get up at freaking 7 am to go back in for another 6 hours.
I don't want to get up and I don't want to go back there and I'm tired of my back and hips screaming in pain. This SUCKS; I want a REFUND.

And then I have to get some reading done for Ethics-- since I've done absolutely none of the work for either of my classes in weeks-- and then get up dirt-early on Monday so that I can deposit my paycheck and apply for both advances off of next semester's financial aid (so that I can pay December's rent) before class.

I've got to finish that naruto_wishlist fic, and I have two final papers/projects coming up, and I work ALL THE FREAKING TIME. I have so little time to depressurize and I need it specifically for that purpose-- destressing-- and yet I need to do my classwork, too.

Man, I'm just tired. I just need a few days off...
...and I'm not going to get them. Not for at least another month.
My choices in the meantime are a) die or b) dig until I manage to find some shred of that がんばって spirit, ne?

*Destressing (currently) = GIN-PORN. Oh my god, it devastates me. I don't even LIKE the other half of most pairings-- Aizen, Kira-- but that doesn't even matter, 'cause it's GIN. Nothing makes me happier at this moment.


lykomancer: (Default)

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