Each Arm

Feb. 21st, 2016 04:08 pm
tinhuviel: (cadmus pariah)

On occasion, I have been asked how I get anything done, because it seems I’m doing everything all at once.  Well, I am doing everything all at once, but it’s really all about what a person gets used to.  It’s also about how a person’s mind works.

 

My mind has always been way too busy for its own good.  Many of my teachers in school allowed me to doodle as I took notes, because the only way I could fully focus on the work at hand was to allow my mind to drift in other matters.  I know that seems counterintuitive, but it worked for me, and I soaked knowledge up like a sponge.  The same concept applied to reading for me.  I have to be reading more than one book at a time, and I have to read each page at least twice, because the first time is a kind of overall imprint, and the second review is more of an in-depth absorption.  I read by paragraph, not by sentence.  

 

I think faster than I can write, even with typing, so I often skip words, which can be frustrating.

 

When I began working in Quality Assurance at BMG, we were all allowed to do as we pleased whilst auditioning new releases, just as long as we could remain focused on identifying sound and technical issues with the recordings.  I got into the habit of writing and working on art while I listened.  It took the pressure of having to listen to shite.  When we began testing video games and upgraded to computers, my focus had to change.  I could audition new releases while testing new games.  I was also tasked to teach myself the computer, then give instruction to my boss and coworkers, so I would often find myself listening to an album, playing a game, and learning the PC by trial and error, all at the same time.  It was never an issue for me.  I adored it.

 

After BMG decided it no longer cared about the quality of its products and I ended up in the Pit (Special Orders Services/Point of Purchase promotions), my need to multi-task came in extremely handy, garnering me a lot of praise from a lot of labels, and some really nice raises.  There were days I would be working on a dozen different promotions projects, and still be writing on my own stuff.  When we got plugged into the Internet at work, I was introduced to LJ and created the Cliffs of Insanity to help me deal with the madness of working in the music business.  Even though the coping mechanism only partially worked, as is evidenced in my obvious madness even today, it further developed my multi-tasking skills, allowing me to be able to listen to music, talk on the phone, communicate via email, process orders, organise promotions, bitch in my journal, and write on my fiction simultaneously.  The more I did, the more I could do, and the more I needed to do.

 

I never had any capacity for patience, though, and what little patience I had, began to deteriorate.  I am now pretty much devoid of any patience, but the mind is still on overdrive, and I often find myself incapable of doing just one thing.  I feel incomplete and lazy.  I feel disconnected, not only from the world as I perceive it, but also from myself.  I also need some distraction in order to keep Cadmus in his Tulpa form at bay.  If it weren’t for multi-tasking, Cadmus would have driven me the rest of the way mad as a hatter long ago.

 

I know a lot of people find multi-tasking to be a pain in the arse but, for me, it is a blessing for a mind that will sleep when it’s dead.

tinhuviel: (CadmusOrphaeus)
I have finally found someone who is willing to help me with grief therapy. It's been a constant runaround since last August, because South Carolina and its doctors are about as organised as a Los Angeles riot. Thankfully 8 August will be the end of that nightmare, and I will be able to start dealing with a number of issues.

Vivienne e-mailed me back with permission from Finn to make a video for his version of More Heat than Light. I wanted to do another comparison piece, this time with the Veils and Shriekback. I've also decided to do band photos for the songs, so I've spent a goodly part of the day collecting pictures for the two videos. Here's hoping all of them will like it.

I have noticed that I have a very difficult time getting my mind to work enough to write properly during the day, so I decided to dedicate the sun-portion of the day collecting the aforementioned pictures and organising book shelves. I figured that would be a good thing to do with my time, as long as I paced myself and didn't get all Virgo OCD on the tasks at hand. I worked pretty well, so I'm going to do something quite similar tomorrow. But tomorrow, I will be making the videos and, hopefully one or more Tim Roth Tutorials.

For now, though, the sun has gone down, it is cooling down because of all the rain today, and I'm beginning to feel the urge to really write. I really must draw Feeding the Tree to a close. I'm just procrastinating because of what Cadmus and Flint must do to drive the gist of the story. It has been a constant battle, and one of the main reasons why I want to kill Flint as soon as I possibly can. Cadmus already has a nemesis in Orphaeus, and he is destined to finally learn about love through his association with Gethsymonae. Flint has no proper place.

But I'm rambling now. It's time to pour some Absinthe and settle in.

The Weekend

Jul. 3rd, 2010 11:27 am
tinhuviel: (Ace Ventura)
I spent a good majority of my time in bed yesterday. It wasn't any sort of discernible illness, nor was it depression. I just did...not...want...to move. All that said, I'm about two days behind on my song-by-song for The Bald One and I haven't proofed a thing of my own in a couple of days.

Seriously, I need to get my arse in gear. Bleeeeghhh...
tinhuviel: (Barry Exact Science)
They shouldn't exist. They're positioned just right to make you long for the weekend, yet realise the weekend is far enough away to make you miserable. When I was still able to work, Thursdays never failed to piss me off. Now that I'm not working, they still piss me off for my friends who must endure them. The only good thing about Thursday is Fringe. I hope I can get it tuned in. Fox is iffy at best on our digital tuning box thingie.

Okay, now that I've been all negative and shit, I guess I should write something positive. How about The Augury of Gideon? I've decided to pull characters and plots from the early days of my Vampire writing into the mix. Sydney, now named Ishtar, is going to be a main character. When I was writing her story yesterday, [livejournal.com profile] acook came rushing into my psyche and embodied Sydney perfectly. Before that even happened, I'd decided that Sydney/Ishtar would be an important figure in the resurrection of Faust/Kallum. It's my desire to see the two of them become very deeply involved.

Here's what I've written on Sydney/Ishtar so far. The Dhampir becomes a Vampire thanks to Dmitri. I'm cutting it for explicit sexual content and length. Click at your own risk.

Sydney becomes Ishtar )

So there you have it. She already senses the existence of Kallum and it's only a matter of time 'til the adventurers bring out the incorruptible body of Faust only to have him wake up upon tasting Ishtar's blood.

Of note

Apr. 21st, 2009 03:10 am
tinhuviel: (ELO)
The young fellow on 2nd and I finally bonded thanks to ELO. Doc asked me to jog his memory about my all-time favourite band. When I reminded him that it was Electric Light Orchestra, Chris piped up (which is unusual for him) and said he really liked them. This may be the beginning of a beautiful relationship.

I sleep now. For 3.5 whole hours. ::zonk::

Hi!

Apr. 17th, 2009 01:20 pm
tinhuviel: (Tin Grin)
tinhuviel: (Asthma Hound Chihuahua)
I've apparently caught some thing and was sent home by Dr. Patch when he heard that I sounded like Froggy from Our Gang and looked like Hell's worst nightmare. So here I am. I'm supposed to work tomorrow but Doc told me not to come in if I wasn't significantly better. Honestly, it's been so long, I don't know what to think of a boss like this. ::boggle::

Bleh

Feb. 6th, 2009 11:27 pm
tinhuviel: (Pondering Joker)
Today was my "Let's see how many things Tin can do wrong today" at work. I hate not knowing everything immediately and without question. It's the Inner Goddess/Cat in me, I guess. Dr. Patch has the patience of Job when it comes to training new employees 'cos we're all a pack of drooling lobotomy victims when we first come to work for him.

In even better news, I had about a third of a back tooth break off. Can we say exposed nerve from hell, boys and girls. Yeah, I thought we could.
tinhuviel: (Levi)
I worked 'til 12:30 this morning. I'm addlepated. Studying is not an option. Told Doc what the class was called: Human Thought and Learning. He agreed that the class (and the test) would be dead easy. I'm not worried. I'm just gonna cram and do my best.

Heheheheheheheh. I'm only human.

Here's to another day of adventure and four-legged angels in fur coats! Wheeeeeee!
tinhuviel: (Frustration)
I went into work today. I was to work with Elise, the groomer, who started out as a tech, but moved to grooming when Michelle left to be a mother. I'd never worked with Elise before, but I'd heard she was a dynamo on the weekends, being keen to get in and get out quickly, so I decided to get there early so I could get ahead and make an impression on her and show her that I wasn't a slacker. She was already there when I got there, and so were Dr. Patch and Sharon. As we all walked in, Elise said, "I've already done the runs."

"Okay, cool, I'll start on room one," I said, certain I'd get rooms one and two done and over with and could probably do the barn and spend some time with Levi. I was wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Room one only had two dogs in it: Toby, the rat dog and professional mess-maker, and Raleigh, the Weimaraner pup and future Dr. Evil. From around 8:30 this morning, when the morning crew probably left, until 4 this afternoon, Raleigh had single-pawedly transformed his cage from a nice large doggie abode covered with about a half a newspaper to a toxic waste dump. He had pulverized the newspaper, creating two piles of newsprint sludge with a mixture of piss and shit. He had also done the Beer Barrel Polka in place all over his cage, spreading the toxic mixture of piss and shit from pillar to post so it could dry into a nice hell-clay that covered the majority of his cage.

I took Raleigh out to pee and poop, which he did, much to my surprise, given the state of his cage, then brought him back to a fresh cage. I'd no sooner gotten him in and given him his meds when Doc opened the door to room one and exclaimed, "What the hell happened in here?" I pointed at Raleigh. Raleigh pointed at me (well, he would have if he could have). About that time, Sharon walked by with a freshly washed Charlie in her arms. "What on Earth is that?" She asked, disbelief in her voice. "Tracy, is that you??"

Thinking about all the flatulence-driven horror through which I've put Aunt Tudi over the years, I said, "Yes, Sharon. Yes, it's me." Dr. Patch scampered from the room and returned with a bottle of XO (an odour-eliminator), which he sprayed all over the cage. It worked only in liquifying the mess, which made it harder for me to clean up.

"You're gonna have to wash that dog's feet off so that shit doesn't dry on his pads," he said. "It'll be nearly impossible to get off by tomorrow morning."

It was already dry on his feet because the waste dump was already dry in his cage. And Doc was right, it was nearly impossible to get off. I spent a good thirty minutes in grooming washing this dog's feet, then drying them. Raleigh wasn't at all receptive to being wet, nor was he very happy about the hair dryer. Just saying I got my exercise like whoa just by washing this hell-puppy's feet. I got him back to room one and put him in the clean cage with some food and water, then set to scooping out the semi-solid bits inside the toxic waste dump. Thank the Mighties for latex gloves!

Once the semi-solids were gone, I took the towel Doc gave me to throw away after use and wiped up with worst of the liquid toxicity. I then sprayed the entire cage down with the cleanser we use to clean and sterilise dog-frequented areas. I sprayed and sprayed and sprayed and SPRAYED AND SPRAYED AND SPRAYED SOME MORE. Lawdy Jeebus, my spray finger is numb from pumping that freakin' spray bottle. And, if I'd known about all the paper towels I would have used in such a brief period of time, I would have bought stocks in them ages ago. I'm sure I used at least a roll and a half.

But, get this: by the time I was halfway finished with cleaning the cage from hell, Raleigh had eaten all his food, turned over his water bowl, and had set to pulverizing his newspaper. By the time I had completed cleaning the cage from hell, Raleigh had scooped all the newspaper to the corners of his cage and was proceeding to poop, after he'd already pooped outside just 45 minutes before. Fuck on a stick! Baby Jesus on rollerblades! This dog was obviously out to get me and whomever else was unfortunate enough to have to tend to him during his boarding time at the vet's office! I let him finish his business, then transferred his demonic arse from his newly-destroyed cage to his freshly sanitised cage. I then set to cleaning the new disaster, pulled out the rancid trash bag filled with Raleigh's 700 deadly sins, sprayed some Oust to kill whatever odours might still be lingering, and turned off the lights. "Good night, asshole! G'night Toby!"

By the time I'd finished what was probably one of the worst cleaning nightmares of my entire life, Elise had done everything else except the dishes, which I promptly set to doing. Once the dishes were done, I apologised to Elise, telling her that I usually am faster than this shining example of my work ethic. She told me not to worry about it, that Doc had told her about the horror movie in which I'd been deposited, and she could smell it too. What she didn't know was that I'd had to take this hell-puppy to grooming to wash his feet on top of everything else. She was appropriately horrified and scandalised, and she told me that she knew I usually did better than this, that she wasn't worried about it all. I then asked her if she could smell me, because all I could still smell was rancid shit, and I felt like it was all over me. She told me that she couldn't, but I can still smell it. Aunt Tudi said she couldn't smell me either. I think they're all lying just to save my already bruised feelings. Dr. Patch and Sharon would tell me the truth though. Hell, Sharon was already quick to place the blame on me from the get-go. I think Aunt Tudi has been telling her stories about me and my near-legendary flatulence.

I just pity whomever opens the door to room one tomorrow morning. It's going to be ugly. Beyond ugly. Maybe I should have made a sign or something and taped it to the door. Something like "Open with caution" or "Just go home now!" or "Kill yourself now and spare yourself the indignity of the hell-puppy." Something. Anything. Because they're going to find themselves starring at a toxic mess brought about by a dog who likes to Jitterbug in his own excrement, a canine who enjoys doing the Michigan Rag whilst pissing, shitting, and probably projectile vomiting all at once. This dog is the puppy from HELL and I hope he has gone home by the time I go into work tomorrow.

That dog is a fuckerer and I don't like him one damned bit. That is all.
tinhuviel: (Sheriff Obama)
After filling out way too many applications, taking a 10-key test that gave me one error our of 26k strokes, and driving not quite 150 miles, I'm cooked. Right now, I don't really care if I ever get another job. I'm ready to put a lily on my chest and start playing one of those cartoon harps.

No word from Llew.
tinhuviel: (Tin Grin)
A picture post, mainly featuring the fact that my hair is long enough that I can let it go natural. I don't have to straighten it anymore make it look decent. So see some crinkles behind the cut, and some Aunt Tudi too!

crinkles and 2D )

Scary, neh?

Now you won't sleep tonight. Bwwahahahahah! Seriously, though, I'm happy with the way my hair is going. I'm never cutting it again, but I'm buying tons of gel or mousse or something to accentuate the natural wave.

Oh, and PS: I applied for my old job at Arvato. Can you believe it? It was posted on Careerbuilder.com so I said "screw it" and applied. If they hire me, I'm gonna laugh my arse off. It'll bounce right off and down the road. Some arse collector will pick it up and nail it to their wall.

4 Places

Nov. 18th, 2008 05:17 am
tinhuviel: (Yay....)
I've got four places to go today:

1) Byrnes High School admissions for my transcripts
2) Greenville Tech admissions for my transcripts
2) Wofford College admissions for my transcripts
4) The Unemployment Office to start my unemployment

Because I'm unemployed. I quit the Dollar General and I was let go for undisclosed reasons at Sally Foster.

This distresses me in one way. In another, it may allow me to get extra funding for school. So I'm trying my best to take the high road here but, after everything that's happened this year, I'm just ready to lie down and die. Die die die.

Klonopin

Nov. 15th, 2008 03:11 pm
tinhuviel: (Locke)
Klonipin is finally helping me sleep, and sleep good, with funky-ass dreams as an added benefit. The downside is that I'm seriously wibbly when I do get up. Here's a picture of my resignation letter, as well as a pic of my favourite manager Steve, and my work station.



Here's a picture of my resignation letter.


Now, what I really wanted to write was: You motherfuckers ask way too much for way too little and your human compassion was flushed down the toilet after your read that insidious brain-washing book that the company requires all managers in training to read. You're the type who'd gladly drink the Kool-Aid if it added to your store's profits for the month. You can take your cheap-ass low-grade products and shove them up your chocolate whiz-way. Oh, and that insurance I stuck around way too long to keep? It sucks just as much as you do. I pay to have them tell me that they aren't going to pay anything. You can take Cigna and swish it around in the muck in which you regularly wallow. Piss on you, piss on you store, and piss on the dregs of society that continually walk through its doors. Yours very truly, Darth Shriek.

But I didn't, as you can plainly see.

Here's a pic of my favourite manager and the one to whom I gave my resignation. He's a good guy and deserves better than being stuck at Dollar General. Here's Steve, being all cool and shit.


And here's my work station. They could have given me a stool, but they said it was against company policy. I just couldn't take it anymore. Sally Foster should end at the end of this month. When that happens, I'm going to draw unemployment and get as much assistance as possible for school. And I'm going to file for disability. Something has got to change for me. Something's gotta give. It's crazy how I'm trying to do what's considered the right thing, when I'm physically (and mentally) unable. When you can't sleep for panic attacks, you can't function at work.

I'm on my way, dammit.


So there you have it, the end of Dollar General. I'm gonna miss some of the clientele, but some of them need to crawl back under their rocks and die.

The End

Nov. 14th, 2008 11:44 pm
tinhuviel: (Farce)
I resigned from the Dollar General tonight. After days of disregard for what is essentially a disability, I decided enough was enough. So I'm not going back. I don't have insurance anymore, but at least I'm established with Dr. Adams-Hudson now, which is fantastic. She agreed that I could not continue with the DG job.

I'm putting our future in the hands of the Goddess here. The Sally Foster gig ends in just a few weeks. After that, I will have no job. At least Dr. Adams-Hudson has me on an anti-depressant (Effexor) and an anti-anxiety medicine (Klonopin). We'll see if they work and I can function like a normal person if given half the chance to work in an office environment again.
tinhuviel: (Hippies for Obama)
Conversation samples from my lovely night at work.

"Obama's citizenship is now in question. It's gonna finally come out that he's a Muslim."

Guess what, you dunderhead: there are millions of American citizens who are also Muslim! Islam is not a country and Muslims are not that "country's" citizenry. And Obama isn't a Muslim but, if he were, that should make no difference regarding his qualifications as president. I'd rather have a smart Muslim than a Christian idiot as a leader any day of the week, thank you very much.

"I can't believe you voted for Obama! With a middle name like Hussein, I don't see how anyone can trust him."

Hm.. Lemme guess. You think he's a Muslim because his name is Hussein. My name is Angelina, which must mean that I'm a Catholic from Sicily. Fucking idiot.

"I'm just not comfortable with a president who's affiliated with known terrorists"

You mean like the Bush family ties to the bin Laden family? Do you not remember how relatives of Osama bin Laden were swiftly spirited out of the country the day of and the day after 9/11/2001? No wonder Americans are so scoffed at by the world. It would appear that the majority of us, or at least the majority for the past eight years, has the attention span of a goldfish.

"Yay! It looks like McCain is leading Obama by several thousand votes!"

Yeah, in South Carolina. The state has a collective IQ of not quite 100 and its people are only exhibiting their mental capacity by voting the way their churches told them to, despite unemployment rates being sky high and folks losing their homes right and left. Smart. Really smart.

I'm glad I only had to work five hours tonight and that I was able to hold my tongue as much as I did. Had I been there any longer, I would have blown a freaking gasket and told all these tackheads exactly what I thought, more so than I actually did. It's so hard living in a red state, a painfully Red state.

It's heartening to see that North Carolina might actually snap out of the Red haze in which it's been fumbling for the past few decades, and go blue. Elizabeth Dole lost her seat. HA! If NC does vote blue, I'm so getting me a "Proud North Carolinian" bumper sticker.

A Decision

Oct. 22nd, 2008 10:40 am
tinhuviel: (Here is the news!)
It can't get much worse. Well, it can and it will without the proper care and treatment, which I can't give and I'm not getting, but that's neither here nor there at the mo. So I've decided that I'm continuing to work the DG job until I'm able able to see the rheumatologist next month. He's the best in the area, being a teaching doctor, and he takes this crap insurance that Dollar General provides for their employees. This may set me on the road to getting disability since it's obvious I can't do what I'm doing and I can't find work doing what I'd been doing. If I'm scheduled, my next day to work is Saturday. Maybe, by then, I can put some weight on my knee and go about business as usual.
tinhuviel: (Yay....)
Okay okay okay, if it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all!

Here's the scenario. ::does her best Sophia Petrillo voice and says:: PICTURE IT! The parking lot of Sally Foster. 4:35 PM. A young Sicilian girl pulls into the parking lot.....okay, I'm busted! I'm not a young Sicilian girl. I'm a middle-aged American woman. But the rest is true, so this must make me a Liberal! If I were a Republican, I would have said that what I'm about to tell you took place in the Hamptons twenty-five years ago during the glory days of Ronald Reagan when there'd be no such thing as an African American running for the, GAWD FORBIYUD, office of the Presifink of the United States of Ameriduh! But I'm not that much of a dirty, rotten, stinking, underhanded, yellow-bellied liar.

So, anyway, Sally Foster, 4:35 PM... I parked my car and stepped out. As I hoisted my person onto my bad knee (do you see where this is going??), I hear a *click* and then my leg bones turned in a manner not conducive to leg-bone turning. Yeah, it hurt. But I hobbled on in and did my job to the sound of my leg bones and knee joint doing their own version of the Country Bears Jamboree right there in my pants. But, by the time 9 PM rolled around, I needed to be, in a wheelchair. I called Aunt Tudi and asked if she wanted to join me in another lovely sojourn at the Spartanburg Regional ER. Filled with glee at the prospects, she threw on her duds and, thirty minutes later, we were underway. Three hours (which ain't too shabby when it comes to the ER) and a couple of X-rays later, Dr. René Auberjoinois came in and asked how I was doing, he was doing great, but he had knees! His words. He then proceeded to tell me that I have no cartilage on the inside portion of my knee joint. It's just bone on bone grinding around in there. He put me in a knee immobilizer and on crutches for two weeks, and he ordered me off my feet (my Dollar General job) for a week. Yee... So I get to call Tami later on this morning with the smashing news that not only will I not be in this morning, but I won't be in for a week! And, when I do go back, I'll have to sit down because I can't stand on crutches for three to four hours straight, depending on when she let's me take my break! So, my job there is pretty much knackered, because I can't count the hopeful applicants to whom I gave applications just yesterday on my fingers and toes on account of I'd run out of digits. And the job at Sally Foster ends at the end of November which means I'll be totally out of work!

But. There's a reason for everything and as I was pulling out of my friendly neighbourhood Walgreens clutching all five of my pain pills (you read that right. five.) to my depressed bust at 2 AM in the morning, Aunt Tudi spotted that reason.

and here it is, by god )

Why not have a gander at that fashion-crashing knee immobilizer?



And, with that, I'm a dead woman.

Angels

Oct. 18th, 2008 05:47 pm
tinhuviel: (Yay....)
Yesterday at the dollar store, this elderly man came up and asked me where the raw-hide dog sticks were. I directed him to the right place, then went about my business of checking people out. A few minutes later, the man came up with two different packages of raw-hide treats. He asked me which ones I'd get, and I said that I'd get both, just to give the dog some variety. He laughed and said it sounded like I was an animal lover like him. I told him yeah and filled him in on how many dogs and cats I had. When I told him that I currently had 10 cats, he was flabbergasted and asked me about it. I explained that I did cat rescue and had had around 30 cats at one point. I told him that I tamed the feral ones, got them their shots, and had them spayed or neutered before finding them a new home. He commented that it had to be expensive and I told him that, yes, it was expensive, but I did the best I could, especially in the current economic climate. Then I told him the joke I shared with someone else a week or so ago, saying that, if things didn't get better, I'd have to eat my cats instead of feed them. He laughed at that, then asked where the cat food was. I told him that it was on the same aisle as the dog treats and that I'd hold his bag if we wanted to go back and look at what we have. He thanked me and walked back to the pet food section of the store. I continued to check out customers. About 10 or so minutes ago, the old man returned and I handed him his bag. When he took it, he placed some money in my hand and said, "Buy your cats some food. You're a good person to do what you do, so here's something to help you out." I was the one who was flabbergasted at this. I thanked him as he left. When there was a lull in the parade of customers, I checked out what he'd given me. It was $3.00.


Today, again at the dollar store, this elderly lady hobbled up to the cash register with a cart full of merchandise. She was bare-footed, because her shoes hurt her, and had a stream of dried drool coming from the left corner of her mouth. She apologised for falling in the bra section and making a mess of the bras. I asked her if she was okay, and she said that she was, but she need desperately to sit down and was unable to empty her cart so I could scan her stuff. I told her that she could sit on the bag carousel and I'd unload her cart for her. While the line backed up, I unloaded the lady's cart, then scanned her stuff while she sat on the bag carousel. When I was close to finished, she got up so I could bag her merchandise and she could pay. She paid with her debit card, but was slower than an inebriated slug in doing it. The line got longer. Once she was finished paying with her debit card, I handed her her receipt and held open the door so she could find her way out of the store. By then, my manager Tami had come up and opened the second register to help me check out the backed up customers. She didn't seem very happy about it. I told her about the old lady being unable to do anything and how it got me behind. She was still unimpressed. She's a manager, which means that she has had her capacity for compassion annihilated by the corporate office. Anyway, I checked out a couple more people and the third person, upon paying with her debit, found a debit card left behind by somebody else. I looked at it, then realised that it was the old lady's card. She was the only one prior to my current customer who had used debit. I informed Tami about the card and placed it on our table between the two cash registers. Then I checked out a couple more customers. Upon a lull in the customers, I looked outside and saw that the old lady was still in the parking lot, sitting in her car talking on the phone. I told Tami I was gonna take her debit card out to her, then out the door I went. When I tapped on the old lady's drivers-side window, she lowered it and asked what was wrong. I told her that she'd left her debit card and handed it to her. She started crying, saying that I'd been so good to her in the store, that I was an angel, and she pulled me through the open window and gave me a hug. And then she proceeded to talk as hard as she could about her health problems, how she had torn menisci in both knees, how she was eaten up with arthritis, and how she'd had multiple sclerosis for about 20 years before realising she had it. She showed me the pain patch she had on her left arm, and told me about how that and medicine for fibromyalgia were the only things that allowed her to walk. She was the type of person who talked in a manner that wouldn't allow you to get a word in edgewise. I was out there for a good fifteen minutes, listening to this woman pour her heart out to me. Then I told her I had to go back to work. She hugged me again and reiterated that I'd been an angel to her, that god put angels on the Earth to watch over and help others, and that I was one of those angels. When I finally made it back into the store, Tami was beyond unimpressed. She gave me some pretty dirty looks in between checking out customers. Once we were caught up, she left me without so much as a "see you later, cashier scum!"

But this got me to thinking, what the old lady said about angels. Maybe that old man was an angel, sent to me to say "You're doing good. Don't stop, no matter what happens. Help will come from the most unexpected sources." It almost makes me feel mildly hopeful.
tinhuviel: (wwJDd?)
There was a dude who came into the dollar store who looked and acted just like Buffalo Bil. I had to check him out and all I wanted to do was blurt out "It puts the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" But I refrained because I don't need to be reduced to one job. In honour of my encounter, let's have a video.



Now, you know how rich people have pheasant under glass? Well, we poor folks have something different. It's called, quite correctly, plastic chicken under plastic cup.



Pretty, neh?

For Today

Oct. 13th, 2008 08:26 am
tinhuviel: (Khaaaaaan!!)
I get to visit Dr. Crackyerbones at 10. Then I get to come home and mow the grass, trim around Chester's eyes so he won't perceive the world as incredibly hairy, fill out some paperwork and help Aunt Tudi with some paperwork, then go to work at Sally Foster.

I guess I should celebrate Columbus day, but I'm really not keen on honouring a man who abused Native Americans in the name of god. So, fuck you, Chris! And fuck this so-called horribleday.
tinhuviel: (Cliffs of Insanity)

  • There's a reason why the movie W. is being released so close to Hallowe'en: it's a freakin' horror movie. And what makes it even scarier is that it's based on a true story. Dubya will end up in the ranks of horror movie monsters like Freddy Kreuger, Jason Vorhees, and Pinhead. I can see it happening. He's been scaring the hell out of me for the past eight years.

  • Attention all you crazy Russian serial frienders: I don't mind you're friending me. Hell, I'd friend you back if you'd just pop onto the ole blog and tell me you've friended me and introduce yourself! But I don't like being part of some bizarre online competition. So, if that's why you friended me, please defriend me and move along. No harm, no foul. If that's not what you're doing, just let me know and I'll friend you back because I dig people on a certain level despite my rabid misanthropy. I especially like Europeans and I've always been quite fond of Russians, Czechs, and Poles. Slavs in general are of particular interest to me and I've actually tried to teach myself Russian and Czech. That was about twenty years ago, which means I remember none of what I taught myself. That said, I can't understand a word you write in your journal, but that's okay. If you're a legitimate friender, I'll friend you back and enjoy the Cyrillic appearing on my Friends Page. It may prompt me to try to learn Russian again!

  • I've decided to not return to the bakery. I'm thinking that Teresa is trying to "punish" me by not giving me any hours this week.  Actually, even though I needed those hours, I've had a wonderful weekend, thanks to Teresa's so-called punishment.  And her actions stirred within me the last vestige of pride that I possess and that the Man has yet to successfully beat down.  I'm no longer a bakery slave!  When/If Teresa calls to let me know she finally "needs" me to come back to work, I'm going to inform her that I'm no longer available to work in the bakery and that I'm going to do to her what she did to me.  And I'm going to hang up on her.  I've already told Tami that I'll be available to work more hours at the Dollar General.  When I go in to work on Tuesday, I'm supposed to write down what days and times I'll be available for work.  It's gonna be difficult not having that third job, but we'll make it somehow and I'll be saving what little pride I have left so that I can continue to partially hold my head up in this Corporate/Fascist state that's keen on eradicating any capacity for thought and self-preservation its consumers may possess.  By the grace of the Goddess and God, I will persevere!
  • [livejournal.com profile] clumsycake is having a hell of a time trying to find a surgeon who will help her with her bladder problem. Since she has no insurance, she's trying to go through some charity organisations to try to get her surgery. The problem she's having is that tacking up a woman's bladder is considered an "elective" surgery, which means anyone who needs the surgery has to grovel in the gravel to maybe get it down the road. [livejournal.com profile] clumsycake is in pain and can't function because of her dropped bladder, yet the powers that be have decreed that her condition isn't that serious and should therefore be treated as an elective situation, if it's treated at all. She has an appointment with a doctor on Tuesday, after speaking with an Ask-a-Nurse nurse, who directed her to Regenesis. Maybe she'll be able to get the help she desperately needs. This is America's health care in action! Stay tuned here for more riveting updates on [livejournal.com profile] clumsycake's fearless sojourn into the dreadful quagmire of the US health care system.

  • There's something coming on the History Channel at 10PM which is what I'd called Must See TV. It's called Last Days on Earth. If you're even remotely sympathetic to my Alpaca Liptic message here on The Cliffs of Insanity, then you need to get thee hence and enjoy this Feel-Good Television.

  • I've decided that, the next time one of my animal companions finds themselves needing a "lamp shade" around their heads, I'm going to request the largest lamp shade available. Then I'm going to cut it into a daisy shape and paint it purple. Then I'd place this godawful thing on my unfortunate animal friend and promptly take pictures. I'm hoping that my animal friend would look like this:
     I think Riley would be the perfect candidate for this dandy pictorial project.

  • Smidgen is exhibiting something I like to call the Feline Autumn Heebie-Jeebies. When she takes herself outside for any length of time, after she comes in, she has huge pupils and she runs about like a crack whore who's on a particularly festive high. Riley and Motley get the brunt of her FAHJ. Smidgen stalks both of them and just gets the greatest pleasure when she manages a smack on the sly. I'm hoping I can get her on film, walking on her hind legs, her arms in the air, and her eyes black as night. I've noticed that many cats succumb to the Feline Autumn Heebie-Jeebies. The change in the air seems to affect most cats, making them celebrate life to the fullest of their feline abilities. This means that someone is going to suffer and someone else will be amused by their moments of suffering. And the wheel keeps turning....

Lazy Day

Oct. 11th, 2008 03:06 pm
tinhuviel: (Dodo)
I don't know what to do with myself, being home all day. It's a lovely feeling, being in my favourite place and not being sick or recovering from injuries. I'm cherishing and relishing every special minute.

So far, I've applied for seven jobs, reactivated Netflix in the event we have to give up cable. Netflix will be about $60 cheaper a month.

I've also been watching crap movies on Sci-Fi. The movie currently airing is Hallowed Ground, which stars Nick Chinlund, who is one of my favourite actors. He played a sicko serial killer/demon on The X-Files and Toombs on The Chronicles of Riddick. Oh and he played another serial killer on Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. Everything he's in, he absorbs the character he's playing, becoming beyond believable. It's amazing. This movie Hallowed Ground sucks, but he's fantastic as Preacher Jonas Hathaway. Even though he's not what I'd call handsome, I think he'd be great as an Elf. He's got otherworldly angular features that always identify a person to me as an Elf. Maybe it's just me.

Crazy Eights comes on Sci-Fi at 8 PM. It sounds very interesting, so I think I'm gonna watch it. In our domicile, Sci-Fi is notorious for suckering Aunt Tudi and me into watching their Saturday feature film. It looks like the network is gonna win again tonight. Maybe this movie will be better than the others we've watched on Saturday nights. I'm hoping so. Dina Meyer stars in it and I'm quite fond of her. She did well in Starship Troopers and Star Trek: Nemesis. Maybe she'll do well in Crazy Eights. I guess we'll see.

I think I'll make another poll. Polls are fun and I'm wonderfully bored!
tinhuviel: (Nathor)
[livejournal.com profile] clumsycake called Aunt Tudi around 6. She was just heading home after spending a lovely day at the hospital. Sure enough, her bladder has prolapsed and she needs surgery. They sent her home to take it easy until her surgery can be scheduled. 2008....Baby New Year is doin' it rong! He's made of fail this year. 2009 has to be better, there's just no two ways about it.


There's this chick at Sally Foster by the name of Arlene who is the epitome of the Church Lady. She doesn't ask anyone if their deeds are because of SAAAATAAAAN?? but her behaviour indicates that she really really wants to. She's also, as she puts it, very sheltered, despite being around my age, so some of the things she says can only be explained by her lack of experience. For instance, she came into the control room at the beginning of our shift and said to me, "Do you know what Tammy asked me yesterday?"

"What's that?" I asked, thinking that there was no telling, because Tammy loves getting Arlene's goat.

"She asked me if I was married to a black man!"

Taking up Tammy's torch, I asked "Well, are you?"

"No!" Arlene exclaimed, scandalised by the, to her, naughty thought of interracial coupling.

"Well, would you like to be?"

"I don't think my current husband would approve of me having more than one spouse," she said.

"Okay but, if you weren't married, would you like to be married to a black man?"

Arlene turned her eyes to the ceiling in thought, then gave this measured reply. "If I was in love with him, sure. God doesn't see colour, so neither should I."

"God doesn't see colour? Sure she does!" I said, relishing my opportunity.

"No he doesn't."

"Sure she does!" I reiterated.

"No! No he doesn't."

"Of course she does. God sees everything in colour and colour in everything. How else would you explain this beautiful technicolour world in which we live? God definitely sees colour. It's what her creations do with her colours that cause the problems, not with her perception and creation of the colours themselves."

Arlene mulled this over, both the colour philosophy and the god as female implication I insisted on making, then she said, "I never thought about it like that." And she drifted out of the control room, uncharacteristically quiet.

Later on, she was back in there about a different, work-related issue, but got to kidding around with Tammy, Amy, and me. Tammy said something off-colour to her and Amy piped up and said, "I bet you'll be going home to pray tonight, won't you Arlene?"

"No! I'll be right over there on my lane praying as soon as I leave this office!"

"Well, let me know what she says when god answers!" I chortled.

Arlene just looked at me and smiled as she left the control room. Fun!


Earlier today, en route to the hospital, I found something in the Sweet Sweet Ride that makes it even sweeter. [livejournal.com profile] clumsycake was present to see my instantaneous geekgasm upon my discovery. In the storage compartment located between the two front seats, I stumbled upon this:



I know it's blurry, so I'll explain what it is for those who can't make it out: it's a USB port for an iPod. I don't need my FM tuner in my Sweet Sweet Ride. I can patch Son of iGor directly into my Sweet Sweet Ride, which is what I'll be doing first thing tomorrow morning on my way to the dollar store. I'm so thrilled by this new discovery, I am literally light-headed.

[livejournal.com profile] clumsycake

Oct. 8th, 2008 03:38 pm
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
My pal [livejournal.com profile] clumsycake is sitting in a room in the ER where my sorry arse left her. She called Aunt Tudi while I was at the chiropractor's asking if I could take her to the ER. I left Dr. Bruce and went to get her and take her up to the ER. I had her up there a little after 11. She thinks her bladder has prolapsed. Once she was checked in and in a room, I went back to Dr. Bruce where he cracked my bones cracked my bones, then went back to the ER, getting back around 1:30. She still hadn't seen a doctor. I had to leave her there at 3 so I could get home and eat a bite, and get ready for work. I would have stayed, but I can't miss any time at the Sally Foster job. It would be a severe detriment to my livelihood if I did so and I just can't do it. It's a damned shame when you have to choose between friends with emergencies and whether or not you keep your house. Thank you very much, Dubya! Thanks for making me feel like a crappy-ass who deserts her friends at hospitals!

Grrr...

Oct. 7th, 2008 04:28 pm
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
I got to spend all of 20 minutes at home, thanks to my crappy coworker and her lack of money-counting abilities. I'm off to work again. More after 9 tonight. I got some nooooz!
tinhuviel: (Inconceivable)
My day started out at 5 AM. The clock went off and my sorry arse oozed out of bed, unwilling to deal with the fact that I had to be at work at the bakery at 6. But I pulled myself together and plastered a smile on my face, and off I went to Ingles.



Oh, but there's more! If my ugly mug didn't scare you off, click here and continue, won't you? )

Damn.

Oct. 3rd, 2008 11:04 am
tinhuviel: (Bellatrix)
I expected my Sally Foster check to be direct deposited to my Palmetto account. I just checked my balance and it's still a big fat 0, which means I'll have to swing by Sally Foster today to pick up my check, if it's even there. Crap. Another extra few miles on my depleted tank o'gas.

I'm watching the news and everyone is saying that Joe Biden won the debate, but Sarah Palin did much better than anyone expected. [livejournal.com profile] dr_p_venkman posted a very insightful essay about the debate and Sarah Palin. I suggest that everyone rush off and read it immediately.

Did anyone notice that Sarah Palin cannot correctly pronounce the word "nuclear?" She says it the way Dubya says it. I can't go through another four years of our so-called leaders butchering the English language. I put up with that enough living here in the Armpit of Hell with a bunch of morons and tackheads. I'm no English guru, but I do know how to pronounce "nuclear." It's NOT fucking NOO KEE LUR. It's not a hard word to pronounce, people! What the fuck? ::tears out clumps of hair:: Someone needs to shove a dictionary down her Dominionist throat, and a Bible up her arse. Death by wordage! Yay!
tinhuviel: (Geeks for Obama)
After working 10 hours, first at the dollar store, then at Sally Foster, I come home and see the Vice Presidential debate between Joe Biden and Satan in a Dress. Already, my stress level is out the roof.

It was strange at the Dollar Store. Nine out of ten people who came in had something derogatory to say about the current economic situation and the lack of leadership our F├╝rher has displayed in all this, especially since his policies and decisions are the reason our economy is in the toilet. Some people were pro-McCain, but most everyone was keen on Barack Obama and were passionate about going to vote in November.

Michael Bloomberg is wanting a third term as mayor of New York. The law indicates that a person can serve only two terms, then they're out for good. It's mirrors the national law regarding the Presidency. But he wants to change that because of the economy. He argues that his experience in financial arenas is something that New York needs right now, so he should serve a third term, given the state of emergency in which our economy is present. This gave me a cold chill right down the old spine. If New York acquiesces to Bloomberg's suggestion, what's to stop Dubya from doing the same thing? I've said it before and I'll say it again here: something will happen that will make us have to put up with that Fascist asshole leading this country into oblivion indefinitely. He's figuratively pissed and spit upon the Constitution since day one and, now, it's so weak from eight years of abuse, it will probably be thrown out the window once Dubya and his Dominionist masters make their permanent presence in Washington official.

I'm so frightened by all this. I'm a Liberal Witch trapped on the buckle of the Bible Belt and I'm watching my country sink into the mire of Right Wing Fundamentalist oppression, and there's nothing I can do to change it or escape the horror to come.
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
Tonight was the first night all four lanes were open at Sally Foster. Each lane has two lines, so I was responsible for supplying approximately 20 workers with orders on eight lines with essentially only a half day's worth of training. I think I did relatively well. It's like I came in to work and had an epiphany about what I was supposed to do, and everything fell into place. Well, at least that's how it was pertaining to what we were working on tonight. Frank wanted me to supply orders to everyone to the point that they'd all finish up right around 9 PM. All the lines were clear and I ran stats on each lane by 9:05. We pulled over 20,000 units in four hours. Frank said that was unprecedented for a crew of mostly trainees on our first night. I'm thinking that it will all get even easier now that I have some semblance of confidence in what I'm doing. I like working in the Control Room, surrounded by computers. It are fun, yes it are yes it are.


In other news, I hate the grating noise that comes out of Sarah Palin's face every time she opens her pie hole, but I doubt it's really gonna matter much since we're all SKA-REWED.
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
Well, I can turn it, but I don't want to because it hurts. The doc instructed me to do stretches and rub my neck while I'm working on loosening the muscles, and I am doing all that. I just figured I wouldn't still be so stiff after these many days. I missed the bakery again this morning, but I'll be going on to the dollar store this afternoon. There's not much activity in the DG job, and things aren't time-sensitive, so I can do that. Tomorrow morning, I'm calling Dr. Yost first thing to try to get in to see him. This fairly sucks, yes it does.
tinhuviel: (Caveman)
I'm wondering if State Farm will give me my lost wages back. I was supposed to work at the bakery today, but just couldn't muster up the physical gumption to do so. It's been five days and I'm still stiff and sore like whoa. I have to work both jobs tomorrow and I can't afford to miss the time. I'm calling Dr. Yost on Monday to see if I can be worked in after my bakery hours, but before Sally Foster. This is some serious suckage.
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
My Yahoo spam filter suddenly decided that anything from "LJ Notify" was bad and should immediately be deleted. I fixed the problem, so I should be getting my comments now.

I've been home for 45 minutes after having worked at the dollar store, which sucked like nothing I can sufficiently describe, and I'm about to head back out the door for Sally Foster.

I know I say it a lot, but it needs saying: I'm tired.
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
I started the new job tonight. It was supposed to begin tomorrow night, but they called me in a day early. It's fabulicious! I'll be working in the computer control room, filtering orders out to the warehouse and basically keeping my pulse on the ebb and flow of the work being processed on the mini-shift from 5 to 9 PM each night. The young lady by the name of Brandy (sp) training me is incredible. She's a natural at teaching and is a really sweet girl, being only 29. I took tons of notes, none of which I'll be able to read because my writing is for crap, so I'm depending on my memory to keep my afloat until I learn everything I'm supposed to know. My boss, Frank, had heard about my car accident and told me he was glad to see me present and in one piece considering the situation. I told him I was glad, too. I felt genuinely at ease in a very short period of time there. It was like being back in the music club portion of BMG when it was still the RCA Music Service.

One thing that's not very cool is the Chocolate Room. I capitalise it because it deserves capitalisation. This room is just this side of refrigerated and it contains nothing but specialty chocolates. It smells of milk chocolate and every bin is filled to brimming with rich, buttery chocolate and toffee. It's a chocolate-lover's paradise if the chocolate lover gets to indulge. We employees do not get to indulge and, in my case, someone with PMS pretty much suffers when finding themselves in the Chocolate Room. Fortunately, there's no need for me to go in there, at least I don't believe so. For me, the Chocolate Room is the third ring of Hell.

On a brighter note, employees get goodies during our seasonal employment, so I will probably get some of that chocolate, and some gift wrap and other stuff. Also, we receive bonuses. If I'm there on time every day and work my alloted time each day, I'll be getting an extra $40 a week. That pumps my pay up to $12.00 an hour. This job lasts for 8 weeks, so I need to make this count. If I make a good enough impression, hopefully the temp agency will be able to find me something else once the Sally Foster project is complete.

For the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
Yesterday was a very busy day for me. I went to the Employment Security Commission and applied for more jobs. Then I went to this place on Asheville Highway called Personnel Solutions Incorporated on a lead that they were hiring for seasonal work at Sally Foster, a facility about 2 miles from my house. I filled out all the paper work, watched the obligatory video, and went through the general hoo-ha that potential employees have to go through. Once I finally got in to talk to one of the agents, the first thing she asked me was if I had any lead experience. I told her that, if she meant supervisory experience, then no, I didn't, not officially, but I did have a leadership role in the POP department in the Pit and I was the primary trainer in the QA department at same said Pit. She immediately got on the horn with the rep at Sally Foster and set me up an appointment for an interview the next morning. I was to forward my resume to this lady and go to Sally Foster at 9:30 AM for an interview. I got there, talked briefly with a very nice young lady by the name of Jessie, who passed me on to a Sally Foster manager, Frank.

The first words out of his mouth was "You're really over-qualified for this job, but I want to show you what it's all about to see if you might be interested."

I stressed to him that I'd heard before I was over-qualified for various jobs and that's one reason why I hadn't been able to find one, so please don't hold that against me. All I wanted to do was work. So he showed me what I'd be doing. I'd be taking and processing orders into a series of computers and going out on occasion to do quality inspections. He said that the folks on the floor would be in fear of me because of the power I'd be wielding. Very Sithly, that statement. He really didn't ask me much, saying that the resume told him all he needed to know (thanks [livejournal.com profile] morriganwind!) and that the job was mine if I wanted it.

Even though it's a mini shift (5-9 PM) and only lasts through December, I told him that I would definitely want it. The pay is $10 an hour. The other two jobs are gonna work with me so I can juggle all three, and PSI told me that they shouldn't have a problem placing me elsewhere in a any clerical position, perhaps permanent, once this project is complete. I start the new job a week from today. So now I once again have three jobs, all within 5 miles from my home. Now, I might not lose the domicile. Not even that, but PSI offers benefits. I'm not sure how long you have to work with them to qualify but, if they're better then Dollar General's I might be able to transfer everything to them and drop the minimum wage job that requires my cleaning up drunk bastards' vomit.

Finally, a job that's more conducive to my skills...
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
Two notable things happened at the Dollar General tonight, one good and one bad.

The good thing: I made this woman cackle til she almost spit out her dentures. She came in looking for a white pen that you use to write on car wind shields and back windows (like "just married" and whatnot) because she wanted to write Happy Birthday on her teenage son's car. Steve directed her over to school supplies, where they used to be, and she asked if I'd show her where that was, so I led her over to that section of the store. We stood over there for what seemed like ages looking for something I felt certain we didn't have. She picked up a Sharpie permanent marker and asked if she could use that and I told her that I'd strongly recommend she did not. Then I suggested that she check over in automotive because this pen was technically for cars. If we had what she needed, it would be over there since it wasn't in school supplies. She went her way and I went back up front. A few minutes later she came up with a tiny bottle of white out, the kind that comes with the microscopic brush, and she got in line at Steve's register. Well, I happened to turn around and see what she had and I did a double-take before I caught myself. She saw me and laughed, saying "You must think I'm crazy getting this, but it's the only thing I could find."

"No, I don't think you're crazy, but you might be writing 'happy birthday' on your son's car this time next year. Heck, you may want to start writing 'happy 49th birthday' with that teentsy brush."

Well, she just lost it. Even Steve, who's a bigger misanthrope than I and never laughs, laughed. That made me feel good, because sometimes I say things before I think and I could have easily offended her. And, being a psychic Vampire, laughter gets my wheels to turning like nothing else. So yeah. It was good.

The bad thing: And it was a really bad thing. It was very busy at the store and I was checking out one lady with four other people waiting when this drunk bastard ran into the store and said he needed to use the bathroom. At the Dollar General, the cashier has to unlock the bathrooms for customers. I had my register drawer open giving this lady her change when the drunk bastard ran in, so I had to tell him to please wait for just a minute. He slurred, "oh lord, oh lord," and wibbled toward the bathrooms. I gave the lady her change, apologised to the waiting customers, and rushed after the dude with the key. And I slid in something and almost busted my arse. When I looked down to see what it was, thinking it might have been shampoo since I was right at the baby shampoo, I saw a smear of vomit on the floor. He had left a trail of vomit from the baby section all the way to the water fountain, in which he deposited large chunks of pasta and booze. Steve couldn't clean the floor because he's extremely suggestible and would have puked himself, so I mopped the floor, but I couldn't do the fountain because I'm highly suggestible too. We left the fountain for the morning crew, both of us squicked beyond our wildest dreams nightmares.

Oh, one other good thing. It appears I'm doing a hell of a job at Dollar General. I'm coming out on top on all my reports, out-doing my veteran coworkers. When Tami took me to the office to explain the reports and tell me how I was doing, I automatically assumed I was about to be chewed out, because that seems to be the trend I'm in at the mo, getting dumped on by any- and everybody. But she wanted to tell me how good a job I'm doing. I told her what I'd thought she wanted to talk to me about, and how my day had been pretty crappy, so this was most excellent since I was this close ( - ) from just breaking down and crying my eyes out. She patted me on the shoulder and told me not to worry, that it was all good, and she appreciated my efforts. Then she asked if she could do anything to help out. She's a good manager, and a good person. The managers at Ingles could take a few pointers from her.

Speaking of Ingles, I have to be at the bakery at 6 in the morning. I work until 10, then I go back at 4 and work til 8. What a day! I'm tired already.

Here I lie

Sep. 3rd, 2008 09:31 pm
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
With Smidgen on my chest, vibrating with love, and the laptop on my stomach, processing my words with precision and mechanical glee.

I'm tired, having worked 5.5 hours at the bakery tonight. I wrote on 3 cakes, one of which was a true challenge. This Asian man who could barely speak English wanted me to write Happy Birthday My Darling on a two layer coconut cake. Ingles' coconut cakes have big blobs of whipped icing on top of them, along with a cherry right in the middle. They aren't very conducive to writing with icing, but I did my best because the guy seemed so sweet and tried so hard to communicate with me. When he came back, I gave him the cake and he seemed really pleased with it. I explained to him about the topological landscape of horror the cake posed for my mad icing-writing skillz yo and that I had to remove the cherry in order to write birthday. He was fine with it. I did offer to give him a cherry to replace on the cake later and he asked if maybe he could have four. I gave him eight. He asked what the price would be and I told him they were free, that they came with the cake. He beamed and grabbed my hand and shook it, thanking me profusely. As he walked away, he told me to have a very good day and I told him to do the same and to enjoy the cake. I think I'm losing my mad Sith skillz yo, which irks me. I should have told him that he was lucky to get a cherry at all for all the grief having to write on that cake brought me. But I felt good about what I did and how he reacted, so I'm not gonna mull over it too much. I can spread chaos and unrest at some other time. Today I did someone who looked like he needed one a favour.

I'm starting to like the bakery job better than the Dollar General job. I get to work by myself most of the time and I don't have to deal with too many people. And the people I do deal with are usually nicer to me and all-round more civil than the folks I encounter at the DG. Just sayin'. Speaking of the Dollar General, I should be getting my insurance card in the mail soon. Once I have that in my hot paw, I'm getting me some medical attention, yes I am. And some dental attention. Oh, and some visual attention too. My glasses don't seem to be working as well as they used to. So, it's off to Dollar General to work tomorrow morning. I'm happy with anyone who gives me medical coverage. I work there from 9 to 3:30.

After work, Aunt Tudi and I have some errands to run. Then I get to come home and mow grass. Whoop-tee-doo! ::she says, doing her best Adam Sandler impression::

Wet Noodle

Sep. 1st, 2008 12:00 pm
tinhuviel: (hehhehheh)
I'm starting to learn the regulars at the Dollar General. One of them came to the store four times yesterday. He's a middle-aged African American man with a big gold tooth right at the front of his mouth. He's a really sweet guy and loves to flirt, but that's cool. I think it's adorable because he's harmless in his actions, being devoted to his wife and family.

So last night, the final time he came back, he bought some hair products for his wife. I was checking him out when he said "I figured I'd better get these nets before I went home. If I got home without these, my wife would beat me with a wet noodle."

"Wet noodle?!" I exclaimed.

He laughed and said, "You caught that, did you?"

"Yeah! I've never heard that outside my family. I thought it was something just we Evanses said."

He laughed harder and said, "Oh yeah, we say it all the time, threatening each other with the wet noodle."

"Are you sure we aren't related?"

"We might be!"

"Well, if we are, that'd be cool. We can avoid the wet noodle together!"

"We'd do the best we can!"

So I'm building a good rapport with this gentleman, based on the infamous and dreadful wet noodle.




I went to bed around 11 last night, got up at 5 to give Aunt Tudi her shot, then went back to bed for four or so hours. That four or so hours turned into a much longer sleep session. I woke up at 11:10 this morning to Aunt Tudi helping the dogs off the bed. I apparently turned my clock off in my sleep. I'd wanted to spend some time with Aunt Tudi and catch up on my email and whatnot, but it's not happening now. I have to start getting ready and leave in 20 minutes, as I work at the bakery today from12:30 to 8 tonight.

Grah!
tinhuviel: (Here is the news!)
I'm home until 4:20, then I'm off to Dollar General. According to the schedules through next weekend, I'll be pulling around 52 hours from both jobs. This is very fortuitous. Even though the pay is low, at least this will keep us afloat until I can find a higher paying position somewhere.

At the bakery, Teresa reiterated how she wished I could come in at 4 AM to learn how to make the doughnuts. I told her that I'd see what I can do. I'll probably acquiesce and do this for her because I like Teresa and I feel bad for her. She's harried and has employees who aren't doing what they need to do. Hell, I'm one of them because I'm new and slower than molasses, and I don't know how to do everything yet. I'm still learning, which means I'm not as much of an asset as I could or should be. It'll happen though. Teresa seems really pleased with me despite my lack of skills, enough to want to give me the responsibility of doughnut duty. I'm not sure I could make it to work at 4AM though. It about killed me to be a Rochling at 6. I'll have to give it some thought, but..... it may mean a bit of a raise. Who knows? If I do take Teresa up on her offer, I'll have to start wearing a moustache (or let the one I banish from my upper lip on a daily basis grow wild), so I can effectively chant "Time to make the doughnuts" as I wibble out the door at 3:45 to the lilt of Aunt Tudi's laughter.

Oh Sweet Goddess, I'm so sleepy! And I work at DG from 4:30 until 9 tonight. It seems like all I do now is work and write rambling posts here. What I wouldn't give to have a paid day off.

*YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWNNNNnnnnnn*
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
I made a mistake this morning. I thought I was supposed to be at work at the bakery at 8 AM, but it turns out that I wasn't supposed to show until 12:30 and work until 8 PM tonight. Teresa, my boss at the bakery, was very happy to see me, though. The girl who worked last night ran into some problems and didn't get half of what she needed to do done before she left at 8 PM, so Teresa came into a serious mess when she arrived to make the doughnuts at 4 AM. She was so behind it wasn't funny and she's supposed to be back at the bakery at midnight tonight to take inventory. Needless to say, she was a panic attack on two achy feet. She asked if I'd be willing to stay and help her get caught up, leave at noon, then come back at 4 to close tonight. Of course, I didn't mind, so here I am trying to get my feet to stop throbbing so I can go out and mow the grass before I need to clean up my act and go back to Ingles at 4.

My moon has been particularly atrocious this month and I feel more like dying than I do pulling bread dough out of a freezer at the bakery, especially after mowing grass for an hour, but onward I trudge regardless. Something tells me that I'm going to keel over like a dead woman once I'm home to stay tonight.
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
I applied for this job about an hour ago and have already gotten a call from a lady wanting my references. She is going to work on getting me in for an interview today if my jury duties will allow it. The job is about 5 miles away and, from what Ms. Gibson told me about it, it sounds pretty interesting. We'll see.
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
We've named her Gertrude and she's currently about the size of the end of my index finger.

baby gertrude )

Today was the first day of jury duty. It's criminal court. The jurors' waiting room was full of magazines, most of them hunting and xtian-based periodicals. It was a little disconcerting. During lunch, I ran some errands that have suffered my constant working. I got home late and looked for work online. Applied for over a dozen jobs, so we'll see.

Thanks to everyone who has so far thrown early birthday gifties in my direction. You've no idea how much it means. And thanks for the well-wishes in an earlier post. I feel very loved by you guys and I don't come anywhere near deserving it. Thank you.
tinhuviel: (Suck_ass Day)
I'm beyond depressed and I haven't been on my anti-depressants for about 6 months. It's gonna take about a month before I can get the Lyrica program going. Neron tin seems to be doing nothing for me. Back is out of whack. Knees are gone. The smokies have me in their grasp. I feel like I'm doing Aunt Tudi about as dirty as one person can do another. If it weren't for her, I'd be long gone. There's nothing for me here. I see my journal sinking deeper into something beyond unpleasant. This is your free ticket out of here. All of you deserve better and that's something I can give. No questions ask, just go knowing that I love ad miss you. Maybe, if I survive this, we can become friends again. Those of you who want to say adieu, please know that you're welcome back anytime, maybe in happeir days. I workd 13 hours tomorrow. I pray that I can sleep.






tinhuviel: (Dodo)
I was toolin' down the road when I saw this sign. Maybe I could get a fourth job and just sit over there being vaguely morose with a major case of the Hebrew Blahs. They want Meh? I got Meh in abundance!



On the same trip, this gigantic bird flew in front of my car. I pulled off to the side of the road to spot where it had lighted, caught the beautiful creature in my sights and took these pictures. The zoom function on my camera is my friend. My only regret is not being able to identify the raptor. The light wasn't right for me to be able to see the feathers correctly. I'm guessing it's probably a large red-tail hawk, but it could be an eagle of some sort. I swear I'm getting slack in my birdwatching skills. Hell, I can't even remember the technical term for birdwatching, it's gotten that bad. Grandmother would be aghast, and I wouldn't blame her.



tinhuviel: (Llama!)
Tonight I trained with Alexa, who is heading back to Charlotte to attend her final year at the culinary academy starting Wednesday. The main thing I learnt at the bakery this evening was how to pull the bread and get it ready for baking the next day. All the dough is frozen. Hard. And so was I by the time I pulled everything I needed to pull. One of the items I had to pull was hot dog buns. I was to pull 32 buns and get them ready for tomorrow. I accidentally pulled 33. Even though the dough is frozen solid, it thaws pretty quickly, so here I was with this extra knob of bread dough and nothing to do with it. So I taste-tested it. I have this thing about raw dough of any sort. When I was a kid, Granny would always warn me that I was going to end up with worms if I didn't stop with the devouring of biscuit dough, but I think she was just trying to get me to stop eating her biscuits before she ever got them in the oven. If the whole worm thing were true, I'd have died of a severe infestation years ago.

Anyway, I really enjoyed that pre-cooked hot dog bun and expect that I'll get the reputation of resident dough sucker if I can hold down three jobs. Honestly, I'm not sure I can do it. This bakery job is pretty difficult and is playing havoc with my arthritis. I'm gonna try my level best, though. I don't go back to Ingles until Monday.

Tomorrow is Dollar General day. Yay! I really like that job. I didn't think I'd like being a cashier, but it's pretty nifty.

For now, though, I'm home and I'm watching a doco on two of my favourite human beings on Earth: Bobby and Peter Farrelly, may the Lady bless and keep them.
tinhuviel: (Kowalski)
Please stick it in me for, verily, I am done. The good news is that I get to sleep in tomorrow morning, not needing to go in to work until 4 PM, at Ingles. The bad news is that Ingles only pays via direct deposit. Since my bank account is on overdraft, I'll probably have to work a month, maybe longer, to get caught up with that and pay all my fees. So damn, but at least I'm starting to get caught up.

So.. Tomorrow, Ingles. Sunday, Dollar General. Then it's back to the Cromer grind come Monday.

No rest for the Wiccan. It's a good thing I'm a Witch. Poor humour, that. Blah.
tinhuviel: (Yay....)
And I've still got til 10 tonight to go. Tomorrow, when I get off from Cromer, I need to dash to Greer to cash my check, pay a couple of bills, then come home and change clothes for Ingles at 4 PM. I'm not certain if I get off from Ingles at 8 or 8:30, but at least it's better than 10. I'm not complaining, though. It's money and, better yet, I don't have to wait until I can apply for benefits at Dollar General. As soon as I get my first pay check from DG, I can get online and sign up for health and dental insurance. The downside is that DG offers health insurance through Cigna and I fucking HATE Cigna. But Cigna insurance is better than no insurance at all. As soon as I'm covered, I'm going to every doctor within a 50-mile radius, just because I can. I'll ride up on my moped and demand medical attention, even if I don't need it. I'm gonna get my hubcaps replaced, my shoulder repaired, and my brain refurbished. I'm going to get migraine medicine and anti-depressants. I'm going to scamper off to a chiropractor and have every bone in my body cracked, then cracked again, just because I can! Bwaaahahahah!

And, when I have some sort of physical and mental breakdown from working too much and sleeping too little, I'm gonna take me a vacation in the hospital and make Cigna pay for it. Again...BWAAAHAHAHAAHAHA!

Yes, I'm so tired I'm punchy. Do something about it, dammit. I triple dog dare your silly ass.

.....

BWAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAHAHAHAHAHA!

Hey Mon!

Aug. 13th, 2008 04:09 pm
tinhuviel: (Hey_Mon!)
I just got my third job, this one at the Ingles bakery. I start on Friday at 4 PM. Every job I have is all within 5 miles of home. I'm so getting a moped, if I don't die of exhaustion first.

Tuesday

Aug. 11th, 2008 09:51 pm
tinhuviel: (PSA)
I work from 6 AM til 10 PM, so I doubt I'll be online tomorrow. Just sayin'.
tinhuviel: (Default)
Friday night while I was at work at Dollar General, I got a call from the bakery manager at Ingles wanting me to call her back about a part-time position. I called her back yesterday and she wanted me to come in for an interview today. So I went and talked to her this morning. I told her that I'd just started a part-time job at Dollar General, but would like to work in the bakery as well, if at all possible. She said that it may be possible for her to work with me on my schedule. I'd be closing at Ingles, the hours being from 4 PM til 8:30 PM, and I'd be working some on the weekends. The pay would be around $7.00 and benefits are available after 1000 hours of work or a year of service, whichever comes first. At least I think that's how it works.

I should know something this week sometime. If I get the job, I'll start the following week. One thing I'll be learning with this new job is cake decoration. That's a handy skill to have.

For those who don't get the Hedley reference, watch this.

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