The ones where you sit on the shower floor, let the water run to cold and just simply stare at your hands in front of you because they're kind of the only thing you can find to appreciate about yourself (in that moment...or day). I've got pretty nice hands. Can't quite vouch for the rest of me at this point.
I was late to work today. Yes, you're right. It is only my second week. Let this serve as the basis of how idiotic I am (also, tis a good thing boyfriend doesn't read this blog [which is fine by me, btw, for all you girls gasping,"oh that's terrible! how insensitive!" right now] cuz he would not be pleased with me...)
Complete honesty blurb: Okay, so it was one of those simple human mistakes where you have the alarm set but somehow life decides you're going to sleep through it and you have no choice whatsoever and you'll wake up at 7:10 when you should be waving and saying "Hi! Welcome to Walmart! I'm 'killing you with kindness' today and you're gonna like it!" oh, about 10 minutes ago. Not to mention clocking in 15 minutes late is technically a 'tardy' so if ya think about it, by the time I clocked in at 7:24 I was really only 9 minutes actually late...which is still a problem, I know.
No one said anything, I did a really good job today and lots of work for being a door-greeter. I ended up running all the odd-job-scurry-around-the-entire-facility stuffs. Twas great. I know I'll hear about it later when they review my times or whatever but the point is MY LIFE WILL NOT END.
I personally think you hafta really try to get fired from Walmart. It's like failing PE. It just doesn't happen unless it's the only option left. My dad however, he is of a differing opinion. I'm pretty sure he was expecting me to drive back home 10 minutes after I left, jobless, the way he was going on about it.
And now backstory! huzzah.
I had a job once. Kinda. $30 an hour. Psh! Yeah right! No, really (and there were no street corners involved). 30 smackaroons a freaking hour...course, my hours were about 10 or less a week. I was the official accompanist for a vocal class at MCC (well, 2 vocal classes), so I did a lot of sight-reading. In fact, that's all I did. I enjoyed it fairly well, except for the fact that my boss was Ursula.
I'm not even kidding you right now.
Ur-su-la. The sea witch. And she was indeed a witch. Genius lady, knew her stuff and could whip anybody into a true performer but as many of you know I'm a bit of a screwup and she didn't really abide those much.
And so! Winter came along, the end of the semester, I was overbooking myself and falling apart, two different events conflicted--a concert and a rehearsal for a concert--so I chose the concert. Which was not what Ursula wanted (she demanded I be there for the rehearsal). But I was an essential part of this choral concert that I could not back out of and in my mind, I really had no choice.
I could have easily avoided the situation if I had just paid attention to my schedule and used my brain like a normal person but past is past and that was a big slip-up in my life, costing me a very good job and a very good reference.
My dad will not. let. it. go.
It comes up all the time. Constantly.
I love my father but it would be nice if he understood how much it pains me to think about that entire shpiel. I do not regret the choice I made. I would still choose the concert where I wouldn't see a dime but perform with people I love and respect. If I could do it over I would manage my calendar better.
And so now, with this job, he's just waiting for me to fail. Again. And I'm just all too ready to give the man what he apparently wants....apparently.
Also, people are dumb. Holy cow. Frustrating yet entertaining beyond belief.
Case A: If you are a person who needs an electric cart for whatever reason, I won't judge you. If I could get away with it, I'd snag one every time I went shopping whether I could live without it or not. BUT. If you are that person that goes barreling on out the doors while I (the greeter) politely yell at you to stop, that we "can't allow the carts into the parking lot", putt-putts your way on out to your car and then leaves the stupid cart, with the leather seat, the leather seat that has to be sat on for the contraption to work, out in the blazing arizona heat and then I gotta go track it down and burn my butt riding it in...
I HATE CHOOOOO.
Case B: Ma'am, I'm more than happy to help you find that dandruff shampoo you love that apparently isn't on the shelf and apparently doesn't have a sticker on the shelf (um, hello McFly?) but you gotta understand when I say, "Would you like me to go to the back room and ask someone if we have it in stock?" and you say Yes that involves me trekking to the back of the store and finding someone. You're in Health and Beauty. Practically kitty-corner. So when I engage in this wild goose chase for someone who knows more than I do, bring them to come help you and you've disappeared because you were too impatient, angry and bitter at life all I'm gonna do is laugh.
Case C: Alrighty. Thank you for snapping at me but might I just point something out. Take a second and glance around the store from where you're standing. That's a lot of crap, right? You can't even see 3 of the other 5 sections? Mkay, well then you will excuse me when I don't know exactly what shelf the diapers are on. Or this "black soap" of which you speak.
i don' knoooooow. i juss smile and say hi all day.
And of course the dear women who come in under the impression that they can compensate for all the "let-go" goin' on with eye make-up. Excuse me for staring, I was trying to understand the McDonald's arches on your forehead and why they were black....oh! Eyebrows? Uh, of course!
Basically, Walmart is about the best training I could ever have for going to Disneyland in the fall because I'm sure that all the weird-ies I encounter here will be no match for the strangeness that is to come. Lord give me strength.
I have an assignment for you: Think of 5 things that made you laugh or smile today. Can't think of 'em? Then you've got some work to do. Get to it! :)
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