An Update

Yeah, I'm going to post more, as I'm doing this in Opera now. IE seriously sucks and though Opera is glitchy, it's a hair bit more stable. (You don't want to know how slow and unreliable Internet Explorerer can be.) I'll try to have my BotCon report up by the end of the week; wish me luck.

--Weasel

Sick Of It All

Current song stuck in my head: Look After You by the Fray

Yesterday looked as though it may be a promising day at work: my first assigned area was the GM self checks. I rather like it over there; it's more laid back and much calmer than the grocery side of my store. I can pay close attention to the registers, all four of them, and keep the area clean and organized. However, I was simply covering a lunch break so I'd only be there for an hour. But as the hour came to an end, something happened.

A customer, who was purchasing a case of water along with some other items, had an accident. Her mug, which happened to be filled with what appeared to be orange juice, fell and spilled. Now, this wasn't a small mug, either--it looked as though it held somewhere around 56 ounces and it was full. How much liquid was this? Nearly 2 liters worth. I'm not kidding.

We're talking about a good sized spill, something that would require a mop easily. So I put in the action code for a wet spill clean-up, hoping that whoever's working in maintance won't be too angry. Who comes up? CSM Mary. She looks at the spill, looks at me and says, "Grab some paper towels and clean that."

Paper towels. Yeah.

It took nearly fifteen minutes to clean everything. And I didn't get up all the liquid, either; as I was walking away, I could feel the bottoms of my shoes trying to stick to the floor. Like I said, we really needed a mop. To say I wasn't pleased was putting it gently.

Here's the thing: this wasn't the first time something like has happened. When I told a few of my co-workers about the incident, they said that they too had to clean up large spills with only a roll of paper towels and no help. I was stunned. Why on earth would anyone think that this was a good idea? Then one of the other cashiers told me the reason.

During one of the safety meetings, one of the people who works at the customer service desk--Judy--claimed that all the cashiers were lazy and didn't do enough. None of us clean up anything; we're just a bunch of messy slobs.

I can tell you that this is not true. I clean up after myself. I'm more than willing to clean up a spill and have done so, but if it's huge then I need help. And let's be honest here, mopping up a large amount of liquid is faster than soaking everything up with wads of paper towels. But according to Judy, I'm just a lazy slob who doesn't want to clean up after myself. Whatever.

But it gets better.

It seems that our company has a new way of calculating our productivity. Instead of keeping track the amount of items we scan through our registers, it's now only the scans that count. Management wants all of us to crack a thousand scans an hour. One of the ways they want us to do that is to enter in quantities of items. We're now allowed to use the quantity key on our registers.

For years, we were told to never touch that button. Scanning quantities or scanning one item and hitting enter repeatedly has a tendency to mess up our inventory, especially if the items all have different UPCs. So what management is telling us now is that accuracy doesn't count anymore. Our scanning is now all about speed and nothing more. The faster you are, the better.

This is going to screw up our inventory and make things a lot harder for our department managers, but who cares? We'll be cracking 1000 on our scans per hour and that'll make the bigwigs happy. This is why I can't care anymore; the more I care about my job and try to do decent work, the more upset I become over things like this. It's not worth the tears and frustration.

--Weasel, going to curl up in bed with her Slumblebee because she could really use a hug right about now...

Dog Days

Current song stuck in my head: Ue O Muite Aruko (Sukiyaki) by Kyu Sakamoto

It isn't truly summer yet, but it feels like it around here. Prime can't stand it--he's not too fond of heat--but I like it okay.

It's not the heat that's bothering me. It's my job, but what else is new?

Because of the heat everyone is cranky, so I've dealt with cranky customers, cranky co-workers and cranky members of management. Everyone is snapping at everyone else and it's frankly driving me crazy. Fighting the last of this blasted summer cold hasn't helped, either; I'm fine except for the dry cough which won't go away. And it always pops up at the absolute worst moments.

Making matters worse? I have to wait until next year's BotCon for any real relief from this. That's the one thing that bugs me when it's held early: I'm stuck in the doldrums, so to speak. I've already been and gone. It'll be at least a year until I see everyone again and frankly, that's pretty depressing.

For once, I'm looking forward to fall. I'll be a bit closer to next year's convention and maybe Black 2 will keep me occupied.

--Weasel "It'll free up some space in my PC at least. 108 shiny Golett/Golurk rescues can be a bit taxing on space...!"

Down With the Sickness...Again

Haven't been feeling too great for the past couple of weeks, which is why I haven't updated. Seems there's a chest cold going around; I caught it, Prime caught it and we've both been miserable for the past fortnight. So yeah, not fun.

I'm hoping to post something in the next few days. Trust me, hacking up a lung ain't fun.

--Weasel, surviving due in no small part to Delsym....gag.

What We Have Here is a Failure to Communicate

Current song stuck in my head: Fake Wings from .hack//Sign

Today was busy. And frustrating. But mostly frustrating. Here's why.

For the first two hours, I ran from register to register, taking over for other cashiers when they took their breaks. No big deal, at least not until this afternoon. At one o'clock, I was sent to register 5.

*Insert groan here*

Register 5 is the busiest register in the store. It's the first full-service check-out past the self-checks. Since so many people hate the self-checks, they walk straight to five. So I had a line all day long. Making matter worse? I didn't have functional equipment. My PIN pad wasn't working; it wouldn't read any credit or debit cards. So the customers would run their cards multiple times, get frustrated and I'd have to slide the card through the magnetic reader on my side of the register. A transaction that should have been completed in under a minute took at least three and a half minutes. It doesn't sound like a long time but to a waiting customer it's an eternity. It felt even longer to me.

Yeah, I was frustrated, to put it mildly. But it gets even better.

The CSMs know that our PIN pad is faulty on register 5. Our store manager does not. Why? The CSMs haven't told him.

There is a total lack of communication in my store and it is now affecting my job. Register 5 needs to be fixed immediately but our manager doesn't have a clue about it. No one's told him. I'm also willing to bet that he doesn't know about the other malfunctioning registers in the store, like number 16 which doesn't have a working stylus. I'm frustrated, the customers get angry and nothing is being done about it.

And unfortunately, unlike so many others who work in my store, I actually give a damn. I want things to get better, or at least be somewhat bearable in the building. I'm sick of it, sick of the utter lack of communication, sick of the faulty PIN pads, sick of management being so clueless about how bad things really are there. I come home from work so irritated that I have to spend an hour upstairs with the cat on my lap to calm myself down. It shouldn't be this way, but until a few other employees actually start caring, things won't change.

And that honestly depresses the hell out of me. But it doesn't surprise me in the least.

--Weasel, "I'm tired, frustrated and trying not to slam my head into a wall. Wish me luck."

...and I just died a little inside...

Current song stuck in my head: Key of the Twilight from .hack//Sign

Yes, you're reading that correctly, if you clicked the link in the title: Prince Fielder has signed with the Tigers.

I could cry. Seriously. Not even joking. I really wanted Prince to stay.

Ah well, those are the breaks. Good luck, Prince. It was fun seeing you hit for the Crew. Best of luck with your new team.

--Weasel, "Not going to cry, not going to cry, not going to... too late."

Waiting For the End

Current music stuck in my head: Victini and the Black Hero:Zekrom OST Track #25-Golurk VS Reshiram Yes, it's epic because Golurk is epic. Just sayin'.

Well, it's almost over. Christmas is nearly here. Which means I can relax for a little while.... until the returns start.

This past Saturday, being the Saturday before Christmas, was insanely busy. As in, we were up to our necks in cranky customers. It wasn't fun, to say the least. How crabby were the customers? Oh, very. Apparently, we had someone decide that he couldn't reach the PIN pad on the debit card reader so he proceeded to beat the poor machine until it slumped over. "The wild Customer used Hammer Arm! It's stupid effective!"

Yeah, the pad wouldn't work properly after that. Gee, I wonder why?

Me, I spent most of my time on a register that had a nonfunctional stylus. No one could sign for their credit cards, so I had to print out slip after slip after slip. Now I wonder just how many trees I killed on that one day. It makes me feel a little guilty, I admit. Even worse? I told the CSM about it and she said she'd fix it. It never got fixed. So as far as I know register 16 still has a non-functioning stylus. Lovely.

Oh well, only a few more days and I'll be through all this. Until then, I have my copy of Pokemon Black (I'm trying to Masuda method myself a shiny Golett--wish me luck) and Pokemon Rumble Blast to help me keep my sanity. Until then, Merry Christmas to all and to all, good freaking luck.

--Weasel, "Most wonderful time of the year my skidplate..."

The Oprah Thing...

...yes, it's the reason I'm not blogging as much. Just when you think you're starting to move forward...*BLAM!* Twelve steps back.

Still Kickin'... Sorta

I'm still here; it's just been a really bad couple of weeks. The job has been wearing at me (at least Bitch Convoy is freaking gone!) and there's been other shit that's been going after me. It's not really something I can go into, either.

I'll try and update soon... if I don't feel completely slagged.

--Weasel, "Life sucks but the Weird Al concert was pretty awesome."

It's Getting Ugly

My job situation has gotten, for lack of a better term, out of control. I can't go into the details; if I do, there could be some real trouble.

Suffice to say, I don't want to be in the building at all. I hate even seeing the slagging facade. The place just makes me cringe now.

To answer your question, mein liege, it won't take much convincing for me to hit Slag-A-Con. I'm probably going to put in for the days off by the end of next week. I need the break. With everything that's been happening... I may just end up being committed before next BotCon. It's all I can do right now not to scream.

But for all the bullshit going on in that building right now, I have one thing to say: I am not letting you fuckers break me. It ain't happening.

The Bullshit Report

I've been meaning to make a post about this, but I haven't had the time or energy until today.

My current locale is becoming exactly like the old hellhole. Even down to the backstabbing and lying.

We've had at least four people fired in the last couple of weeks. One was the lone overnight cashier who was supposed to be terminated at the beginning of her shift, but management waited until she was nearly done for the night to finally walk her out the store. (The truly idiotic thing? They waited for her to say something they didn't like so they could let her go for that. I just love working around spies and backstabbers, don't you?) One of the cashiers who works around the same hours I do has a second job. He's told people he has a second job. Three days ago he was marched into the office by management and chewed out for "trying to recruit people to his new job". No, that wasn't the case but management doesn't give a flying fuck. As for myself, I've somehow injured my left foot so walking is complete torture for me. I don't know exactly what I've done, but the area near my heel is swollen. I've been using a myriad of different muscle rubs and pain relievers to help take the edge off but to no avail. There have been days that I've left the building about to cry, the pain is so bad.

There's really nothing I can do about it. I have to hope to Primus it heals on its own.

I'm just a cog in the machine, easy to replace.

Like I said, my job is little more than a time waster. I want to write. I don't want to stand behind a goddamn cash register and stare at the unwashed masses all day. Every second I'm at that hellhole is one less second I can write. And it frustrates me to no end.

The one thing that keeps me from losing my mind? The fact that I can come home to Prime and hop on Alexa for even a few moments. When my fingers touch the keyboard, I become so relaxed and...dare I say it? I'm happy. Listening to some really good music helps, too.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some more writing to do. I have to make the best of my days off, you know.

Internet Problems

Well, we've had some... ah, interesting problems that have developed over the last several days.

Don't ask me how (I'm thinking the January thaw had something to do with this shit) but we lost the phone for a few days, followed by the internet.

So yeah, no 'net on my day off. I was one unhappy little Weasel.

Everything seems to be working again, 'net wise. The phone is more or less working; it does cut in and out but at least the damned thing can ring and get a freaking dial tone! *headdesk*

This has not been an awesome week. Not in the least. All this bullshit was just a few more nails in the coffin.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go slam my head into the wall until I frigging pass out. See ya.

--Weasel, "The fireplace'll be perfect; it's made of stone. Not like it gets any other use..."

Aftermath

So, the storm's gone. We actually have some sunny weather for once. Cold, but sunny.

I called my parents last night, so they would know that we're not forced to build igloos in order to survive. Talked to my mother and since there's no delicate way of putting this, I'll just come out and say it.

She's been diagnosed with breast cancer.

Yeah, it hit me like twelve tons of bricks, too.

It's stage zero and the cure rate is 99% which is damn good. But still. This is one of those things that's supposed to happen to someone else. But when you think about it, you're "someone else" to somebody else.

I'm surprised I'm even up and blogging about this: my first reaction this morning was to roll over and sleep the rest of the damned day. The only reason I'm doing this is if I don't keep my mind occupied, I'll just crawl back into bed, yank the blankets over my head, grab Slumblebee and start sobbing. Which of course, serves no real purpose. It might make me feel better, though.

This also means I now have a family history of cancer. Again, if there were some actual functioning and affordable robot upgrades, I'd trade in this meatsack in a nanosecond. Who's with me?

Suddenly those damned pink ribbons and that Pinktober stuff doesn't look so frigging ridiculous.

....fuck.

Permission to Freak Out, Captain?!

It has not been a good week. At all.

Yesterday, I got ripped off. A customer came through my lane with a buy one get one free coupon. No big deal, right? Well, it turned out to be a very big deal--the customer was buying a $3 bottle of shampoo and trying to get a $6 styling aid for free. Needless to say, the register did not let the coupon go through. When that happens, we're not supposed to take the blasted things.

Here's where it gets stupid: the head cashier overrode the damned thing because the customer threw a fit. Why is this a big deal? The customer is an employee!

It's one thing when it's some random jerk off the street who's trying to scam you. It's entirely another when the person trying to scam you frickin' knows better. Or at least, they should know better. (That dull thudding sound you hear? It's my head slamming into the nearest wall.)

Today was no blasted better. The alarm didn't go off this morning, so Prime and I had to bust our skidplates to get ready. (Didn't really help Prime all that much, unfortunately.) Then I got to work. And it got interesting.

At 1:40, I was ringing up an order for a pair of female customers. As I bent over to grab one of the items on the belt, I heard one of them say, "Are you all right?" It seems while I had my head ducked, one of the women had wandered over to register five and slipped. She was now on the floor near the bagging area.

One of the other cashiers managed to flag down a head. It took a few moments, but management came up, got statements from the customers and got statements from me, the other cashier and the head who contacted management. Oddly, though, 'moments' was too long, and one of these women mentioned (snottily) how if this had happened in Target, people there would have been over to help them quick as a blink.

Doesn't that sound, if you think about it for a second, a little suspicious to you?

Yeah, I was a little bit freaked out by the whole incident. I couldn't wait to get my butt home. At least I have a Human Alliance Bumblebee to cuddle up with. I think I've earned it.

--Weasel, "Can I freak out now? Please?!"

Exhaustion

So tired right now. I really don't have the energy to blog. But yes, I'm still here. Just taking some time off, so to speak.

If I feel better Tuesday, I'll try and put something together then. Just way too tired and frustrated tonight.

--Weasel, "I could use another vacation.... or another BotCon."

I can't even think up a decent title, I'm so addled right now. It has not been a good day.

I was stuck on the GM side for most of the day. I also happened to be one of the only open non-self check-out register on that side. Needless to say, I was insanely busy. And it got worse during the last two hours of my shift.

Here's where I can't help but get pissed: every fricking time I'm on GM self-checks and there's two normal registers open, I'm being hounded to take customers on the self-checks. I'm supposed to help "keep the lines down". But when I'm the only damned register open on the GM side, I'm expected to fend for my damned self. No one goes heading over to self-checks, letting the attending cashier that they have to help keep my line managable.

Even worse? I had to pick up the slack for self-checks--the cashier was too busy socializing to notice the flashing red lights.

Pissed doesn't even begin to cover how I feel. And it ain't over yet. (Don't want to say what's going on, but I'll simply say that I'm so stressed right now that I could scream.)

What a wonderful week this is going to be.

--Weasel, "That light at the end of the tunnel? It's the headlamp from an on-coming train."

The Week From Hell

(You might notice that things look different here. It's all thanks to Prime and I'm giving him a huge shout-out for his hard work. He did it all and I really appreciate everything. Thanks for bringing the blog into the modern age, big guy! It looks great and I love it!!)

Is it over yet? Because this week has completely and totally kicked the hell out of my ass. I am not even kidding.

This past Saturday I had to call into work. I was so blasted ill-feeling that I did not want to move. In fact, I felt so bad that I was afraid I was about to spew while I was on the phone. I spent most of Saturday laying in bed, praying to Primus that I wouldn't lose control of my own damned stomach. Not fun, I tell you.

Sunday was a bit better. Monday went straight to hell, though.

Monday was incredibly full of stupid. More than usual. I won't go into the details, but it was bad. Felt miserable at work, but managed to score a Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen microfiber throw. I know this one will keep me quite warm; it's got Bumblebee on it. Sooooooooooo cute. :)

I was off Tuesday, but it didn't get any better. Well, things were fine... until dinner.
I had just finished cooking my dinner in the microwave and was trying to get the bowl out. The bowl, which contained very hot liquid, refused to cooperate. Instead of sliding out, it tipped and spilled--all over my right hand and wrist.

I screamed loudly. Prime thought I was being attacked by a huge venomous spider. I manged to choke out a "No" and shoved my arm under the now running faucet. Prime raced upstairs, saw the mess and asked what happened. I had to force myself to speak, I was hurting that much.

I went upstairs and soaked my wrist in the bathtub for at least an hour. It was pretty badly scalded but it never blistered, thank Primus. (The frightening thing was it looked as if it was trying to blister. When I noticed that, I shoved my arm back under the faucet.) Needless to say, my dinner was ruined. Had to order pizza instead.

As of right now, my wrist is bandaged. It's still a nice shade of MSPaint red, but it doesn't hurt so badly. I've been coating it with aloe vera gel (which is slowly staining my skin Smurf blue), taking Advil PM to help me sleep at night and soaking it in cool water to keep the pain at bay. It's healing, but trying to move my wrist can be irritating at its best and outright painful at its worst. The worst thing? I'd love to cuddle with my Slumblebee right now (it would make me feel so much better) but I'm afraid to touch him. The last thing I want to do is stain him. Right now, I'm afraid to even touch my clothing or blankets; I don't need any of my stuff spattered with blue splotches.

But things are getting better. My store now has a nice big display of ROTF voyagers and deluxes parked in front of the toy department. And I managed to snag myself a Cannon Bumblebee. The picture on his cardback is utterly adorable; in robot mode he has this "Who, me?" look on his face. It almost looks as if he was caught with one hand in the energon-goodies jar and he's trying to play innocent. Seriously cute, believe me.

Next week will rock. I'll be seeing ROTF in IMAX. I can barely wait. (Wonder if I should take Slumblebee along? You know, just for fun.)

And Bumblebee's track record remains unbeaten. Have a few crappy days, the little bugger manages to pop up. Weird.

--Weasel, "I swear, you'd think he was my guardian angel this happens so often..."

Pardon Me While I Bitch a Little...

I'm not feeling the greatest at the moment; been a little sick for the past few days. It's getting better, but the whole 'coming-and-going' thing is irritating as hell.

I'm really sick of work. The amount of BS I've been putting up with seems to have increased exponentially. And I don't know how much more I can take.

For the past few days, I've been stuck on normal registers. Everyone knows how much I love being away from my self-checks (I don't...and a lot of other cashiers simply don't know how to run them...or don't care). If I haven't been doing that, then I've been stuck people greeting. Not something I enjoy, though I'm actually decent at it. (Hell, I actually know how to use the damned Telxon and printer. Most everyone else doesn't or won't.)

Customers are stupid, management doesn't know what the hell is going on and I'm feeling burnt out. AGAIN.

I miss BotCon already, and who knows when it'll be next year.

And I get it, I hate my job, why don't I find another one, yadda yadda. If it were really that simple...

30

I am on day number two of an eight day stretch. I don't know how long I'll be able to hold onto my sanity. So much stupid, so many cranky-ass little old ladies, so much bullshit. I really don't know if I can hold on until my next day off, let alone BotCon. Add on this little bit of news and you could say that yeah, I'm about ready to scream.

To paraphrase Ultra Magnus: I can't deal with this now.

--Weasel "Yeah, life sucks. What else is new?"

An Update

Was feeling better, now feel like slag. And now Prime has it.
More details later; I'm going to crash out. Again.

--Weasel, "Maybe I'll be over this shit by May. I can only hope."