Apparently, our latest member of management is Melissa, the same female who tried to ban me from the self-checks a few years ago. From what I hear, she's going to be a co-manager.
I could seriously cry now.
Showing posts with label workplace bullshit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label workplace bullshit. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
My Life as a WTF? Moment Part 2
Management has made me a patsy. Or rather, us a patsy. And by us, I mean the entire front end.
So we recently got a My$hare bonus but it was the paltry sum of $135. According to management the reason it was so low could be laid at the feet of the cashiers. According to them, we were doing too many ad matches, not getting perishable items back to the proper areas in time, etc. Yeah apparently, we're not doing our job.
Yeah, that's a load of crap and they all know it. It's the shrink that's killing us, the fact that we overorder crap and let it sit in the back until it expires, the fact that no one in the building cares enough to actually try and do their stupid job that's killing us. For example: Mike in Receiving had to throw out seven carts full of four month old yogurt that never made it to the sales floor; the stuff was shoved in a cooler and promptly forgotten. It's that stuff that's hurting the profits and not us cashiers.
But don't tell that to management. Since none of them are ever wrong.
And people wonder why I look forward to the Robot Apocalypse. Hey, the machines can't screw things up any worse than humans can, am I right? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go do something useful, like hatch Elekid eggs until I get a shiny.
--Weasel, "If you need me, I'll be on Route 3!"
So we recently got a My$hare bonus but it was the paltry sum of $135. According to management the reason it was so low could be laid at the feet of the cashiers. According to them, we were doing too many ad matches, not getting perishable items back to the proper areas in time, etc. Yeah apparently, we're not doing our job.
Yeah, that's a load of crap and they all know it. It's the shrink that's killing us, the fact that we overorder crap and let it sit in the back until it expires, the fact that no one in the building cares enough to actually try and do their stupid job that's killing us. For example: Mike in Receiving had to throw out seven carts full of four month old yogurt that never made it to the sales floor; the stuff was shoved in a cooler and promptly forgotten. It's that stuff that's hurting the profits and not us cashiers.
But don't tell that to management. Since none of them are ever wrong.
And people wonder why I look forward to the Robot Apocalypse. Hey, the machines can't screw things up any worse than humans can, am I right? Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go do something useful, like hatch Elekid eggs until I get a shiny.
--Weasel, "If you need me, I'll be on Route 3!"
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
My Life As a WTF? Moment
It's been an interesting couple of weeks, to say the least. Everyone at work is on edge, my poor sweet car Scamper had to spend some time in a garage getting repaired (he's better now) and we've had yet another stupid snowstorm. Our Toy department has been utter crap and there's been nothing new in stock for weeks. On top of that, we've started a new system at my place of employment--now we have to scan our badge at a computer not simply at the start of the day, but after every single break. The system sends us to whichever register it sees fit and most assignments are total crap. Everyone hates the new system, the CSMs are constantly overriding it and it frustrates me to no end. Oh and on top of that, Transfomers: Prime will come to end with the latest story arc subtitled Beasthunters.
Yeah, it hasn't been fun.
There have been some bright spots to all the mess: the announcement of Pokemon X and Y, along with a brand new Eeveelution have helped keep my spirits up and my current shiny hunt--Elekid--have kept me occupied. We're getting Meloetta in March so there's a little something to look forward to in the meantime.
It can all get better. That's what I keep telling myself. Eventually, I might believe it.
--the very beleaguered Weasel
Yeah, it hasn't been fun.
There have been some bright spots to all the mess: the announcement of Pokemon X and Y, along with a brand new Eeveelution have helped keep my spirits up and my current shiny hunt--Elekid--have kept me occupied. We're getting Meloetta in March so there's a little something to look forward to in the meantime.
It can all get better. That's what I keep telling myself. Eventually, I might believe it.
--the very beleaguered Weasel
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
It Just Keeps Getting Better...Or Not
Current song stuck in my head: Only by Nine Inch Nails (Warning: NSFW)
So a few more details came out about the current management situation at my local place of employment. It's--ah--interesting, to say the least.
It seems the manager who was fired was let go because manager Jessie was gunning for his position and now she's taking it over. She's also running roughshod over pretty much the entire store and alienating everyone within sight. They can't stand her new attitude and a lot of people have lost a boatload of respect for her. The co-worker who gave me the heads up about this insane melodrama is now working what she refers to as the "shit shift" which is 3PM to midnight. Oh, and she has no real help in her area, either. But she's expected to do all of her tasks and clean up after everyone else. Oh and the overnight grocery position that just opened up? She's not allowed to go for it. And if she does, she won't get the extra money that the position promises and she'll be stuck in the canned food aisle, zoning that area.
But it gets better. Another of my co-workers is being shoved into an unwanted grocery position: she was working the cosmetics department but her hours have been slashed and she's now a part-timer. So if she wants full time hours and pay, she's going to be working in the freezer all day, whether she likes it or not.
The drama is spilling out all over; seems one of my other co-workers got a text from someone who works in a different store. The text read, "What's up with your management?" Sweetening the deal is the fact that rumor has it that human resources will be paying our store a visit.
It doesn't rain, it pours. I just wasn't expecting this much of a deluge, though.
It's always darkest before the dawn, or so they say. Well, right now it's looking pitch black and I'm not seeing any light in sight. Primus, get me through this slag with my sanity intact, I beg of you.
So a few more details came out about the current management situation at my local place of employment. It's--ah--interesting, to say the least.
It seems the manager who was fired was let go because manager Jessie was gunning for his position and now she's taking it over. She's also running roughshod over pretty much the entire store and alienating everyone within sight. They can't stand her new attitude and a lot of people have lost a boatload of respect for her. The co-worker who gave me the heads up about this insane melodrama is now working what she refers to as the "shit shift" which is 3PM to midnight. Oh, and she has no real help in her area, either. But she's expected to do all of her tasks and clean up after everyone else. Oh and the overnight grocery position that just opened up? She's not allowed to go for it. And if she does, she won't get the extra money that the position promises and she'll be stuck in the canned food aisle, zoning that area.
But it gets better. Another of my co-workers is being shoved into an unwanted grocery position: she was working the cosmetics department but her hours have been slashed and she's now a part-timer. So if she wants full time hours and pay, she's going to be working in the freezer all day, whether she likes it or not.
The drama is spilling out all over; seems one of my other co-workers got a text from someone who works in a different store. The text read, "What's up with your management?" Sweetening the deal is the fact that rumor has it that human resources will be paying our store a visit.
It doesn't rain, it pours. I just wasn't expecting this much of a deluge, though.
It's always darkest before the dawn, or so they say. Well, right now it's looking pitch black and I'm not seeing any light in sight. Primus, get me through this slag with my sanity intact, I beg of you.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
On Borrowed Time
So while sitting in the breakroom at work this morning, I see one of my co-workers talking to one of the cashiers. They're both talking in whispers, so I can tell that whatever they're saying is pretty sensitive. Me, I just keep eating my breakfast and pretend not to be interested until the cashier leaves and the co-worker sits down next to me. A few moments later, she tells me what's going on.
One of the managers got fired on Tuesday. She honestly thinks that it may have something to do with her--this manager would change the schedule in her area to make sure she had enough coverage so that her work got done. No one else did this sort of thing for her; this newly fired manager was the only one.
The real probably is the manager who is taking over my co-worker's department. This manager--who I'll call "Jessie"--doesn't like said co-worker. Jessie's looked this woman in the face and said outright, "I hate you." My co-worker said that the way management is now, if they don't like you, they will set you up to fail and fire you. I transferred from my old hellhole to get away from that sort of crap. Apparently, that didn't work so well because it's now happening here.
Great. Just slagging great.
And people wonder why I'm ready for the robot apocalypse. The robots can't screw up worse than the humans already have.
--Weasel, "If you'll excuse me, I'll be on Cybertron...or in Unova...where things actually make sense!"
One of the managers got fired on Tuesday. She honestly thinks that it may have something to do with her--this manager would change the schedule in her area to make sure she had enough coverage so that her work got done. No one else did this sort of thing for her; this newly fired manager was the only one.
The real probably is the manager who is taking over my co-worker's department. This manager--who I'll call "Jessie"--doesn't like said co-worker. Jessie's looked this woman in the face and said outright, "I hate you." My co-worker said that the way management is now, if they don't like you, they will set you up to fail and fire you. I transferred from my old hellhole to get away from that sort of crap. Apparently, that didn't work so well because it's now happening here.
Great. Just slagging great.
And people wonder why I'm ready for the robot apocalypse. The robots can't screw up worse than the humans already have.
--Weasel, "If you'll excuse me, I'll be on Cybertron...or in Unova...where things actually make sense!"
Friday, January 27, 2012
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."
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."
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
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..."
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..."
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Slow Burn
(Click title for an appropriately loud and angry bit of music!)
So my good mood from my trip to BotCon lasted about a week. Then the bullshit started. Only this time....
I'm not allowed on self-checks. I have no idea as to why, but our stupid ass ZM (I'll call her Bitchimus Maximus) has said this and her retarded-assed words are apparently fucking law. (I have an idea as to why and it's a BS reason and it deals with the dipshit store credit cards we're supposed to pimp, but I digress....)
So yeah, the self-checks will be left in the hands of cashiers who don't give a fucking shit and I'll be forced to watch them fall the fuck apart. The self-checks are one of the few things in that goddamn building that I actually give a damn about.
....pissed don't even start to cover this horseshit.
But this will bite the dumb little bitch squarely on her ass. I know for a damned fact that I will be stuck on a register next to the self-checks and when some customer needs help and asks me, I'll tell them no. If Bitchimus Maximus wants me to help anyone on the damned self-checks, she can stop playing dumbass head games, act like a respectable human being for once in her pathetic life and lift the restriction. Until then, it's not my goddamn problem. Fuck her and the ass she rode in on, as far as I'm concerned. I'm. DONE.
I've told Prime he's going to start editing my magnum opus in August. Doesn't matter whether or not I'm ready, I'm done screwing the hell around. I want out and I want it now. Everyone says I should be happy to have a job, but I sure as hell am not happy dealing with the fucking abuse that management is so happy to heap upon us. We're expendable and they know it. The abuse ain't worth the paycheck.
Primus give me strength for I truly need it.
Everything you say to me
(Takes me one step closer to the edge)
(And I'm about to break)
I need a little room to breathe
(Cause I'm one step closer to the edge)
(I'm about to break)
So my good mood from my trip to BotCon lasted about a week. Then the bullshit started. Only this time....
I'm not allowed on self-checks. I have no idea as to why, but our stupid ass ZM (I'll call her Bitchimus Maximus) has said this and her retarded-assed words are apparently fucking law. (I have an idea as to why and it's a BS reason and it deals with the dipshit store credit cards we're supposed to pimp, but I digress....)
So yeah, the self-checks will be left in the hands of cashiers who don't give a fucking shit and I'll be forced to watch them fall the fuck apart. The self-checks are one of the few things in that goddamn building that I actually give a damn about.
....pissed don't even start to cover this horseshit.
But this will bite the dumb little bitch squarely on her ass. I know for a damned fact that I will be stuck on a register next to the self-checks and when some customer needs help and asks me, I'll tell them no. If Bitchimus Maximus wants me to help anyone on the damned self-checks, she can stop playing dumbass head games, act like a respectable human being for once in her pathetic life and lift the restriction. Until then, it's not my goddamn problem. Fuck her and the ass she rode in on, as far as I'm concerned. I'm. DONE.
I've told Prime he's going to start editing my magnum opus in August. Doesn't matter whether or not I'm ready, I'm done screwing the hell around. I want out and I want it now. Everyone says I should be happy to have a job, but I sure as hell am not happy dealing with the fucking abuse that management is so happy to heap upon us. We're expendable and they know it. The abuse ain't worth the paycheck.
Primus give me strength for I truly need it.
Everything you say to me
(Takes me one step closer to the edge)
(And I'm about to break)
I need a little room to breathe
(Cause I'm one step closer to the edge)
(I'm about to break)
Monday, June 20, 2011
Sick of It All
I'm... tired. Tired of the bullshit, the backstabbing and all the crap that comes with my damn job. I'll fill you in later. Right now, I'm too fucking pissed.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Back To (Semi) Normal
The last few weeks have been a bit trying, to put it gently. Things have gotten crazy at work and adjusting to this "new normal" hasn't been all that easy.
On the work front, there have been massive changes and even more massive rumors swirling about. Our door greeters have now been reduced to working from 10am to 10pm. If you're a cashier that's on the GM self-checks, ten to one you'll be watching the GM doors. Yeah, like you don't have enough to do watching four slagging lanes. Whatever. But that's not the worst of it. The rumor is that we'll be getting rid of the door greeters altogether. Meaning, cashiers will have to keep an eye on things. Even worse, the rumors are swirling about that we'll also see the cartpushers go the way to the dinosaur. Who will go out and take care of the lots? You guessed it: Cashiers and ICS associates.
Yeah, I'm not running around pushing carts in below zero weather. Or blazing heat, for that matter. It ain't happening.
So I keep editing my work, hoping for the best. I'm at the midpoint of a fourth notebook, which is one of the things that's keeping me sane. But at this point, I don't know how long this will last.
--Weasel, "I love my job. I love my job. I love my--oh who the fuck am I kidding?!"
On the work front, there have been massive changes and even more massive rumors swirling about. Our door greeters have now been reduced to working from 10am to 10pm. If you're a cashier that's on the GM self-checks, ten to one you'll be watching the GM doors. Yeah, like you don't have enough to do watching four slagging lanes. Whatever. But that's not the worst of it. The rumor is that we'll be getting rid of the door greeters altogether. Meaning, cashiers will have to keep an eye on things. Even worse, the rumors are swirling about that we'll also see the cartpushers go the way to the dinosaur. Who will go out and take care of the lots? You guessed it: Cashiers and ICS associates.
Yeah, I'm not running around pushing carts in below zero weather. Or blazing heat, for that matter. It ain't happening.
So I keep editing my work, hoping for the best. I'm at the midpoint of a fourth notebook, which is one of the things that's keeping me sane. But at this point, I don't know how long this will last.
--Weasel, "I love my job. I love my job. I love my--oh who the fuck am I kidding?!"
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Black Friday
So, I'm in at nine o'clock the day after Thanksgiving. I'll be in after the bullshit has been said and done.
I'm actually kinda glad; one of my friends has to be in at his store at midnight, IIRC. Yeah, that would piss me the hell off, too.
I wonder how many people will end up getting punched in the ribs or kicked in the face trying to grab whatever cheap-ass TV or hot new toy that's on the sales floor this year.
Really people, is this shit worth getting injured over? Yeah, didn't think so.
--Weasel, who wouldn't step foot out of her house if she didn't have to go to work that day.
I'm actually kinda glad; one of my friends has to be in at his store at midnight, IIRC. Yeah, that would piss me the hell off, too.
I wonder how many people will end up getting punched in the ribs or kicked in the face trying to grab whatever cheap-ass TV or hot new toy that's on the sales floor this year.
Really people, is this shit worth getting injured over? Yeah, didn't think so.
--Weasel, who wouldn't step foot out of her house if she didn't have to go to work that day.
Monday, October 18, 2010
The C Word
Yesterday after I got off the clock, I wandered around my store a bit. Walked through the Lawn and Garden area and groaned. In the back left hand corner what did I see?
Christmas lights and wrapping paper. It begins again.
Yeah, really looking forward to all this crap. Can we just fast forward to next June so I'll be in Cali for BotCon? I'd much prefer that, thank you very much. (It is my "Christmas", after all.)
--Weasel, gritting her teeth and waiting for the clusterfrak that is the holiday shopping season.
Christmas lights and wrapping paper. It begins again.
Yeah, really looking forward to all this crap. Can we just fast forward to next June so I'll be in Cali for BotCon? I'd much prefer that, thank you very much. (It is my "Christmas", after all.)
--Weasel, gritting her teeth and waiting for the clusterfrak that is the holiday shopping season.
Monday, August 09, 2010
"Friend" This
So apparently, saying anything bad about my company on-line will get an associate in hot water. Okay, no big deal right?
Wrong.
It appears if you have Facebook, management will try and fucking friend you... just to watch what the fuck you're saying about the damned company. If it's anything bad, they haul your ass into the office and bitch you out.
I'm really glad I don't have Facebook. I'll be damned if I'd friend any of the management in my damned store so if any managers see this, GTFO. My time on the 'net is my own assholes and I sure as hell won't spend it with you.
--Weasel, "Primus, please let my sorry skidplate get published. I want out of this hellhole."
Wrong.
It appears if you have Facebook, management will try and fucking friend you... just to watch what the fuck you're saying about the damned company. If it's anything bad, they haul your ass into the office and bitch you out.
I'm really glad I don't have Facebook. I'll be damned if I'd friend any of the management in my damned store so if any managers see this, GTFO. My time on the 'net is my own assholes and I sure as hell won't spend it with you.
--Weasel, "Primus, please let my sorry skidplate get published. I want out of this hellhole."
Saturday, July 31, 2010
The Streak Continues
So I get to work today and the front end looks like hell. Again.
We're out of medium bags. Again. So we're stuck using the huge-ass bags. Again. But it gets even better.
It seems we had an order of medium bags that would have arrived soon, but it's not coming. Some jackass decided to cancel the freaking order. So we're stuck with the huge-ass bags, anywhere from a few days to two weeks.
Yep, you read that right. A bloody fortnight. I could cry.
When I get the hell out of the building, I am exhausted. I collapse in the car, wanting nothing more than to go home. Instead, Prime drove us to the other side of the building. He tells me to go back inside, head straight to the board games and buy what's been stashed behind one of them. Confused, I did as Prime asked.
What do I find waiting for me behind the games? A Powerbots Stealth Bumblebee.
Now, you remember how it is with me and 'Bee; I have a crappy few days and BAM! He shows up, as if to tell me that life doesn't suck as much as I'd like to think. It's quite a streak, believe me.
And it just continued. I think everything around me blows chunks and Primus sends a herald. Maybe, just maybe, I can make it through all this.
--Weasel, "Here's hopin'."
We're out of medium bags. Again. So we're stuck using the huge-ass bags. Again. But it gets even better.
It seems we had an order of medium bags that would have arrived soon, but it's not coming. Some jackass decided to cancel the freaking order. So we're stuck with the huge-ass bags, anywhere from a few days to two weeks.
Yep, you read that right. A bloody fortnight. I could cry.
When I get the hell out of the building, I am exhausted. I collapse in the car, wanting nothing more than to go home. Instead, Prime drove us to the other side of the building. He tells me to go back inside, head straight to the board games and buy what's been stashed behind one of them. Confused, I did as Prime asked.
What do I find waiting for me behind the games? A Powerbots Stealth Bumblebee.
Now, you remember how it is with me and 'Bee; I have a crappy few days and BAM! He shows up, as if to tell me that life doesn't suck as much as I'd like to think. It's quite a streak, believe me.
And it just continued. I think everything around me blows chunks and Primus sends a herald. Maybe, just maybe, I can make it through all this.
--Weasel, "Here's hopin'."
Friday, July 30, 2010
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.
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.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
I Can Make It Until June, Right? Right?!
The last few days have progressively gotten worse at my hellhole workplace. On Wednesday, my store completely ran out of medium bags. So our bagging areas were full of large bags.
This was a disaster. They kept falling off the bagging area and couldn't stand up while we were placing items in them. Our speed dropped, the customers were pissed but management swore we were stuck with the damned things through the weekend. Someone screwed up our bag order and we were shipped a pallet of the wrong thing but we had to use them anyway.
There were customers cursing out cashiers over this. We also had customers howling at management over it but management did nothing.
At least, they didn't do anything until the store manager came back from his vacation. He got pissed and took care of everything.
Then two days ago, one of my co-workers got fired. She wouldn't give a reason, she just said it was a dumbass reason to get fired. But now we're short a cashier and we have the EAA Fly-In starting up this week. It is going to be hell.
Then there was today. One of the guys who works service desk volunteered to take a shift yesterday. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it; some punk ass broke out all his car windows. So when he tells management that he can't make it (for obvious reasons), he's told that it will count against him.
Needless to say, he won't be doing them anymore favors. He pretty much said he'll let them hang if they're ever in a bind. I can't blame him. He said it himself: we bend over fucking backwards for that place and all they do is screw us.
Primus, help me make it to next June. But as of right now, I don't know if I can pull it off.
This was a disaster. They kept falling off the bagging area and couldn't stand up while we were placing items in them. Our speed dropped, the customers were pissed but management swore we were stuck with the damned things through the weekend. Someone screwed up our bag order and we were shipped a pallet of the wrong thing but we had to use them anyway.
There were customers cursing out cashiers over this. We also had customers howling at management over it but management did nothing.
At least, they didn't do anything until the store manager came back from his vacation. He got pissed and took care of everything.
Then two days ago, one of my co-workers got fired. She wouldn't give a reason, she just said it was a dumbass reason to get fired. But now we're short a cashier and we have the EAA Fly-In starting up this week. It is going to be hell.
Then there was today. One of the guys who works service desk volunteered to take a shift yesterday. Unfortunately, he couldn't make it; some punk ass broke out all his car windows. So when he tells management that he can't make it (for obvious reasons), he's told that it will count against him.
Needless to say, he won't be doing them anymore favors. He pretty much said he'll let them hang if they're ever in a bind. I can't blame him. He said it himself: we bend over fucking backwards for that place and all they do is screw us.
Primus, help me make it to next June. But as of right now, I don't know if I can pull it off.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Coping
The first full week back to work is a killer. I have no real desire to be there and the memories of the recent convention just makes it harder for me to adjust. But once I'm through that first week of drudgery, I'm all right. Well, as all right as one can expect. But there have been changes, not all of them good.
The biggest? One of our good head cashiers has stepped down, thanks to management. They tried like hell to get him fired and he got sick of it, so he's stepped down and now he's at service desk.
I could cry. Seriously. He was the only head who was friendly and reasonable. Now management has pissed him off and we've fucking lost him. We're stuck with a bunch of fucking dumbasses who don't know what the flying fuck they're doing and who act rudely towards us simply because they can.
What a helluva way to start work after having the time of my life.
--Weasel, wishing it were June and she was in Cali...
The biggest? One of our good head cashiers has stepped down, thanks to management. They tried like hell to get him fired and he got sick of it, so he's stepped down and now he's at service desk.
I could cry. Seriously. He was the only head who was friendly and reasonable. Now management has pissed him off and we've fucking lost him. We're stuck with a bunch of fucking dumbasses who don't know what the flying fuck they're doing and who act rudely towards us simply because they can.
What a helluva way to start work after having the time of my life.
--Weasel, wishing it were June and she was in Cali...
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Akirameru*
Yes, it's been a while. No, work hasn't gotten a slagging bit better. In fact, it's gotten a slagload worse.
In the past couple of weeks, we've had a shitload of people get canned. Most of them were cashiers. One that I heard about yesterday worked at the service desk and I have no damned idea why in the hell she'd get termed. That same damned head who loves riding my ass has been riding it still, but not quite as much. But a lot of other people at the front end are having problems with her. I finally found out why: she wants to move up in the company, so she's acting like a total bitch to impress management. I have no idea if Bitch Convoy (that's what I'm calling her from now on) has attracted the attention of the higher ups; I'm praying to Primus that she hasn't. But the real kicker came about a week and a half ago.
One of the good head cashiers got reamed out by management. He was told he needed to make better decisions and be more responsible. This shit was said to him after he stopped a jackass customer from ripping off the goddamn store. Awesome job, idiots. You think he's going to try and bust his ass to help that miserable hellhole now? Of course the fuck not. Primus, I'd love to slam my head into a fucking wall right about now.
Oh, and I'm getting two days off... but not in a row. To say I'm exhausted would be putting it gently.
Oh well. In 12 more days, I'll be on a jet heading to sunny Florida and BotCon. I can hardly wait until I get there. I can see (and hug the living hell out of) my friends again. (Consider that your warning, DA!)
--Weasel, "At least life won't suck while I'm there."
* means: to give up; to abandon; to resign oneself to.
In the past couple of weeks, we've had a shitload of people get canned. Most of them were cashiers. One that I heard about yesterday worked at the service desk and I have no damned idea why in the hell she'd get termed. That same damned head who loves riding my ass has been riding it still, but not quite as much. But a lot of other people at the front end are having problems with her. I finally found out why: she wants to move up in the company, so she's acting like a total bitch to impress management. I have no idea if Bitch Convoy (that's what I'm calling her from now on) has attracted the attention of the higher ups; I'm praying to Primus that she hasn't. But the real kicker came about a week and a half ago.
One of the good head cashiers got reamed out by management. He was told he needed to make better decisions and be more responsible. This shit was said to him after he stopped a jackass customer from ripping off the goddamn store. Awesome job, idiots. You think he's going to try and bust his ass to help that miserable hellhole now? Of course the fuck not. Primus, I'd love to slam my head into a fucking wall right about now.
Oh, and I'm getting two days off... but not in a row. To say I'm exhausted would be putting it gently.
Oh well. In 12 more days, I'll be on a jet heading to sunny Florida and BotCon. I can hardly wait until I get there. I can see (and hug the living hell out of) my friends again. (Consider that your warning, DA!)
--Weasel, "At least life won't suck while I'm there."
* means: to give up; to abandon; to resign oneself to.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Pain Redefined
(Click the title bar if you don't get the song ref.)
The last few days have not been great.
Well, last Friday didn't suck, Prime and I headed to the local movie theatre and caught Iron Man 2. It was awesome. Shit blew up. Tony Stark is the freaking man. And I think I'm slightly crushing on Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD. I want to see it again. But life went straight to hell not long after that.
On Saturday that blasted problem with my left foot, that stupid damned tendon started acting up again. I was limping through most of my day at work. A couple of times while I was standing at the front lanes I wanted to simply start crying, the pain was getting that bad. (And here I thought I was getting better! Shows what the hell I know...) So I had to start sucking down the ibuprofen again to keep the pain at bay. Then came Sunday.
Sunday was just as bad if not worse. The pain came back with a vengeance. I was hobbling around again. Even worse, one of the heads had a stick up her ass and proceeded to ride every one's ass about it. (The reason? She got busted for not doing her damn job, so she took it out on all of us.) I won't name names (though you have no idea how damned tempted I am) but suffice to say she was being a royal bitch to damn near everyone. In my case, it's pretty much standard operating procedure; for whatever reason this chick does not like me at all. She's constantly on my ass about stupid bullshit.
But I noticed something that day: the pain in my foot got worse every time she was around me. It was the exact same story on Monday. The moment she opened her mouth to bitch me out, the tendon in my left foot started acting up.
When she left for the day, or I had a few minutes to write, there was no pain. None.
As of right now, I'm in no pain. My tendon is fine for the moment. And I'm about to hit 80,000 words on my magnum opus. But I have to head back to work tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that about as much as I'd look forward to a root canal.
I really hope I can sell a couple of books. I'd love to give those turds my two weeks notice. Or better yet, not show the hell up for a week. Nothing would make me happier.
--Weasel, "A girl can dream..."
The last few days have not been great.
Well, last Friday didn't suck, Prime and I headed to the local movie theatre and caught Iron Man 2. It was awesome. Shit blew up. Tony Stark is the freaking man. And I think I'm slightly crushing on Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD. I want to see it again. But life went straight to hell not long after that.
On Saturday that blasted problem with my left foot, that stupid damned tendon started acting up again. I was limping through most of my day at work. A couple of times while I was standing at the front lanes I wanted to simply start crying, the pain was getting that bad. (And here I thought I was getting better! Shows what the hell I know...) So I had to start sucking down the ibuprofen again to keep the pain at bay. Then came Sunday.
Sunday was just as bad if not worse. The pain came back with a vengeance. I was hobbling around again. Even worse, one of the heads had a stick up her ass and proceeded to ride every one's ass about it. (The reason? She got busted for not doing her damn job, so she took it out on all of us.) I won't name names (though you have no idea how damned tempted I am) but suffice to say she was being a royal bitch to damn near everyone. In my case, it's pretty much standard operating procedure; for whatever reason this chick does not like me at all. She's constantly on my ass about stupid bullshit.
But I noticed something that day: the pain in my foot got worse every time she was around me. It was the exact same story on Monday. The moment she opened her mouth to bitch me out, the tendon in my left foot started acting up.
When she left for the day, or I had a few minutes to write, there was no pain. None.
As of right now, I'm in no pain. My tendon is fine for the moment. And I'm about to hit 80,000 words on my magnum opus. But I have to head back to work tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that about as much as I'd look forward to a root canal.
I really hope I can sell a couple of books. I'd love to give those turds my two weeks notice. Or better yet, not show the hell up for a week. Nothing would make me happier.
--Weasel, "A girl can dream..."
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
...and nothing of value was lost...
Today was not a good day.
To be perfectly blunt, I should be writing a five page rant here, screaming and yelling about just how screwed up my job really is and just how much I fucking hate it.
But I won't. I feel absolutely no need.
So what happened today? Oh, nothing much--I found out that I had inadvertently taken several fraudulent coupons. (What should have pissed me off about that? They all scanned and it has been drilled into our heads that if they scan, we can take them. Guess not.) On top of that, one of the heads proceeded to bitch me out because she swore that I came back from my last break late. (Why should that have pissed me off? I got to the break room at three minutes past four. I got back to the front at 4:19. That's 16 minutes, not twenty-two. Somebody fails at math. Hard.)
Three days ago, I'd be pissed off beyond all words in the known English language. But as I type this right now, I feel nothing. No anger, no frustration, no nothing. Why? Because I figure it doesn't really matter anymore. I can't force myself to give a royal shit about that job. It's nothing. All it does is provide a paycheck that helps pay my bills. It is nothing to me. It holds no meaning, save for the money.
What I truly live for, what I truly do, what actually holds meaning to me, I do at home.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put on some mood music (Joe Hisaishi, natch) and add a few more words to that story of mine. Even if all I do is a quick edit, I'll actually accomplish something worthwhile today... unlike the eight hours I spent behind a register doing absolutely nothing of consequence.
--Weasel, "I've gone from hating my job to total apathy. I don't know if that's awesome or not."
To be perfectly blunt, I should be writing a five page rant here, screaming and yelling about just how screwed up my job really is and just how much I fucking hate it.
But I won't. I feel absolutely no need.
So what happened today? Oh, nothing much--I found out that I had inadvertently taken several fraudulent coupons. (What should have pissed me off about that? They all scanned and it has been drilled into our heads that if they scan, we can take them. Guess not.) On top of that, one of the heads proceeded to bitch me out because she swore that I came back from my last break late. (Why should that have pissed me off? I got to the break room at three minutes past four. I got back to the front at 4:19. That's 16 minutes, not twenty-two. Somebody fails at math. Hard.)
Three days ago, I'd be pissed off beyond all words in the known English language. But as I type this right now, I feel nothing. No anger, no frustration, no nothing. Why? Because I figure it doesn't really matter anymore. I can't force myself to give a royal shit about that job. It's nothing. All it does is provide a paycheck that helps pay my bills. It is nothing to me. It holds no meaning, save for the money.
What I truly live for, what I truly do, what actually holds meaning to me, I do at home.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to put on some mood music (Joe Hisaishi, natch) and add a few more words to that story of mine. Even if all I do is a quick edit, I'll actually accomplish something worthwhile today... unlike the eight hours I spent behind a register doing absolutely nothing of consequence.
--Weasel, "I've gone from hating my job to total apathy. I don't know if that's awesome or not."
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