Bring me my cane!
You know you are starting to become an old lady when, half way through your day, you realize how nice it would be to just lay down and take a short nap.
The typical schedule Robbie has been keeping is roughly 14 to 17 hours a day, with one nap or two between waking up for the day and going to sleep for the night. I can already tell he is going to be hyper like my dad and I are. He pushes himself to stay awake even when he's dead tired. "Nonono, I don't want to go to sleep. There is playing to be done, toy boxes to tear apart, DVD stacks to topple. I'll sleep when I'm good and ready to!"
Imagine that being said in Eddie Izzard's voice and now you know what I imagine my sons inner monologue sounds like.
Am I insane? Quite possibly. I blame lack of sleep. Oh, what the hell am I talking about, I have no excuse.
While a few days of that schedule isn't too bad, it starts taking a toll on you once it has continued for about a week and a half. Even though I've been getting roughly eight to nine hours of sleep a night, several 17 hour days without a break tends to take its toll on you. The days where Robbie will take at least an hours nap are godsends. It's amazing how revived you can feel after a short nap like that.
I guess fifteen month olds just tend to have that effect on you.
As it turns out, the Tire Shop thing may not be happening after all. They are approaching, if not already in, their slow season, so now is about the time they start moving people out of that department into other departments so they can save on payroll for the days they will really need it.
But! Not all hope is lost. Dad called me up two days ago and asked if I would be interested in working at the jewelry counter. Apparently, John told Dolores, the head of jewelry, to get with dad so he could get with me about finding out if I wanted to and, if so, changing my interests in the computer. So, he called me, I said hell yes, my info was changed in the computer, and now I am just waiting for the phone call. It seems likely they are going to call me for this one since John asked dad yesterday if we had gotten all of that taken care of.
My name is getting dropped for all of the departments I have experience in, it seems. I never formally worked at the jewelry counter, but they would always get me to help out over there when it got busy. At one point, John made a list of the only people he wanted working back there if they were not COS's or jewelry counter personnel. There were three names on the list, mom, someone else and me. The holiday season I had to work the electronics table, when they needed help in jewelry, they sent a new cashier over to mind the table and sent me behind the counter.
Yes, I'm bragging. Mostly cause I still can hardly believe how as one of the most trusted employees in the store I ended up being fucked as badly as I was. That's still a bit of a sore spot.
So, again, it's another area I will need little very little training for. There were a few things I wasn't ever trained in since I was never employed solely in jewelry, such as the weekly audits. There were times I was sent over there to mind the counter while someone else did the audit, but that was it.
After I told mom about the phone call, she was asking me if I thought it would be boring. Not really, no. It's now approaching jewelry's busiest season. Those times during Christmas when they would pull me out of electronics was due to the fact of how busy it was. Including me, there would be four people behind that counter, and we would still need at least one more. Sure, we were all bumping into each other enough as it was, but it was just that busy and that hectic.
Even when t's not the holiday season, there is still plenty to do. I always managed to find something to occupy my time with when I was just over there to give someone a break, even if it was just cleaning the glass on all of the cases. As long as you look busy, they don't care what you are actually doing.
If they call me about it, all I will need to do is go buy some new pants. Which I would have to do anyway since all of my jeans have holes in them (souvenirs from working in the tire shop around car batteries). However, in this case, I will need dress pants, possibly a new pair of shoes. Jewelry requires professional dress. I have tons of professional looking tops, so I don't need to go all out there. Just the pants.
The great thing is, all of the same people I worked with before in jewelry are still there. Well, the ones who haven't quit or moved, that is. It may seem strange to find that a perk, but it is for me. I hate having to get used to new people in a new work environment. The transition of going back to work will be made a hell of a lot easier if I am training, and working, with people I already know fairly well. And I absolutely adore Dolores. Imagine a 4'8" Mexican woman with a sense of humor just as bad, if not worse, than my dad's. For those of you who don't know my dad, he's about as blunt, straight forward and dirty minded as they come, simultaneously. Yeah. She's awesome.
In other news of the less than pleasant kind, I am seeing a trip to the dentist in my near future. The molar that has been broken for about three years now has finally reached its breaking point. Pun not intended. It has been hurting every now and then since the initial break, usually just when more of it breaks off, but the coupe de gras came a few weeks ago. Robbie was in one of his failing around moods before he went to sleep and nailed me right in the jaw with either his head or his hand, I don't rightly remember which, all I remember is it hurt. A lot.
Since then, it starts hurting at least once a day. By hurting, I mean the type of pain that makes its way up into your eye socket, makes your eye water, and then finds its way into your ear canal.
Yeah, no fun. Nighttime Baby Oragel has become my nearest and dearest friend.
Ridiculous fact of the month:
Ambasol does NOT work as well as Nighttime Baby Oragel. Why? I don't know. The generic Wal-Mart brand of Ambasol has 20% Benzocaine, while Nighttime Baby Oragel only has 10%. Don't ask me, I only know what works. Nighttime Baby Oragel makes my mouth (and eye socket and ear canal) happy.
Unfortunately though, they only sell it in a two pack with the regular formula of Baby Oragel, which we still have a nearly full tube of since it doesn't work as well as it only has 7.5% of Benzocaine in it, so I've been hesitant to buy another two pack. Ambasol it is until I can muster the guts to go to the dentist.
It's not that I'm afraid of dentists, per say, or afraid of having work done on my teeth. I just didn't have a particularly pleasant experience the last time I saw a dentist. I had to have a cavity drilled out. It took them over an hour for them to get my mouth numb enough for them to eve be able to do the procedure, then I started getting feeling back while he was still drilling. At that point, with how long it had taken to numb me the first time, I just sucked it up and dealt with the vibrations, then the pain as they were nearing completion, just to get it over with so I could get out of there. But as my luck would have it, my tongue was numb for two days after this. Go figure. The Novocain didn't last only teeth, but did its job perfectly on the rest of my mouth.
Yeah, so, needless to say, I'm not looking forward to a root canal. I am pretty damn sure that's what I'm going to need since one part of the tooth is now broken all the way down to, and possibly past, my gum. I'm thinking the pain is due to the nerve being exposed. I'm considering asking if they could just knock me out for the procedure, but at this rate, any pain has to be better than what it is causing me right now.
So, yes, I need to just suck it up, find a dentist my insurance covers, and get it the hell over with.
A little bit of irony for the day. The woman who chews my dad and I out up one wall and down twelve others when we get bad sunburns now has one herself. Mom has been silly all summer by staying out for too long when she goes out to work in the yard. Her shoulders are an unpleasant shade of brown. Not tan, mind you. Brown. Dark brown. It looks horrible. Today, she decided to give Digger a bath and now her entire back is not quite a tomato red shade, but damn close. I have already poked fun at her for the hypocriticalness of her ways.
Now, I'm off to doctor her back with several layers of vinegar and then some Solarcane.
The typical schedule Robbie has been keeping is roughly 14 to 17 hours a day, with one nap or two between waking up for the day and going to sleep for the night. I can already tell he is going to be hyper like my dad and I are. He pushes himself to stay awake even when he's dead tired. "Nonono, I don't want to go to sleep. There is playing to be done, toy boxes to tear apart, DVD stacks to topple. I'll sleep when I'm good and ready to!"
Imagine that being said in Eddie Izzard's voice and now you know what I imagine my sons inner monologue sounds like.
Am I insane? Quite possibly. I blame lack of sleep. Oh, what the hell am I talking about, I have no excuse.
While a few days of that schedule isn't too bad, it starts taking a toll on you once it has continued for about a week and a half. Even though I've been getting roughly eight to nine hours of sleep a night, several 17 hour days without a break tends to take its toll on you. The days where Robbie will take at least an hours nap are godsends. It's amazing how revived you can feel after a short nap like that.
I guess fifteen month olds just tend to have that effect on you.
As it turns out, the Tire Shop thing may not be happening after all. They are approaching, if not already in, their slow season, so now is about the time they start moving people out of that department into other departments so they can save on payroll for the days they will really need it.
But! Not all hope is lost. Dad called me up two days ago and asked if I would be interested in working at the jewelry counter. Apparently, John told Dolores, the head of jewelry, to get with dad so he could get with me about finding out if I wanted to and, if so, changing my interests in the computer. So, he called me, I said hell yes, my info was changed in the computer, and now I am just waiting for the phone call. It seems likely they are going to call me for this one since John asked dad yesterday if we had gotten all of that taken care of.
My name is getting dropped for all of the departments I have experience in, it seems. I never formally worked at the jewelry counter, but they would always get me to help out over there when it got busy. At one point, John made a list of the only people he wanted working back there if they were not COS's or jewelry counter personnel. There were three names on the list, mom, someone else and me. The holiday season I had to work the electronics table, when they needed help in jewelry, they sent a new cashier over to mind the table and sent me behind the counter.
Yes, I'm bragging. Mostly cause I still can hardly believe how as one of the most trusted employees in the store I ended up being fucked as badly as I was. That's still a bit of a sore spot.
So, again, it's another area I will need little very little training for. There were a few things I wasn't ever trained in since I was never employed solely in jewelry, such as the weekly audits. There were times I was sent over there to mind the counter while someone else did the audit, but that was it.
After I told mom about the phone call, she was asking me if I thought it would be boring. Not really, no. It's now approaching jewelry's busiest season. Those times during Christmas when they would pull me out of electronics was due to the fact of how busy it was. Including me, there would be four people behind that counter, and we would still need at least one more. Sure, we were all bumping into each other enough as it was, but it was just that busy and that hectic.
Even when t's not the holiday season, there is still plenty to do. I always managed to find something to occupy my time with when I was just over there to give someone a break, even if it was just cleaning the glass on all of the cases. As long as you look busy, they don't care what you are actually doing.
If they call me about it, all I will need to do is go buy some new pants. Which I would have to do anyway since all of my jeans have holes in them (souvenirs from working in the tire shop around car batteries). However, in this case, I will need dress pants, possibly a new pair of shoes. Jewelry requires professional dress. I have tons of professional looking tops, so I don't need to go all out there. Just the pants.
The great thing is, all of the same people I worked with before in jewelry are still there. Well, the ones who haven't quit or moved, that is. It may seem strange to find that a perk, but it is for me. I hate having to get used to new people in a new work environment. The transition of going back to work will be made a hell of a lot easier if I am training, and working, with people I already know fairly well. And I absolutely adore Dolores. Imagine a 4'8" Mexican woman with a sense of humor just as bad, if not worse, than my dad's. For those of you who don't know my dad, he's about as blunt, straight forward and dirty minded as they come, simultaneously. Yeah. She's awesome.
In other news of the less than pleasant kind, I am seeing a trip to the dentist in my near future. The molar that has been broken for about three years now has finally reached its breaking point. Pun not intended. It has been hurting every now and then since the initial break, usually just when more of it breaks off, but the coupe de gras came a few weeks ago. Robbie was in one of his failing around moods before he went to sleep and nailed me right in the jaw with either his head or his hand, I don't rightly remember which, all I remember is it hurt. A lot.
Since then, it starts hurting at least once a day. By hurting, I mean the type of pain that makes its way up into your eye socket, makes your eye water, and then finds its way into your ear canal.
Yeah, no fun. Nighttime Baby Oragel has become my nearest and dearest friend.
Ridiculous fact of the month:
Ambasol does NOT work as well as Nighttime Baby Oragel. Why? I don't know. The generic Wal-Mart brand of Ambasol has 20% Benzocaine, while Nighttime Baby Oragel only has 10%. Don't ask me, I only know what works. Nighttime Baby Oragel makes my mouth (and eye socket and ear canal) happy.
Unfortunately though, they only sell it in a two pack with the regular formula of Baby Oragel, which we still have a nearly full tube of since it doesn't work as well as it only has 7.5% of Benzocaine in it, so I've been hesitant to buy another two pack. Ambasol it is until I can muster the guts to go to the dentist.
It's not that I'm afraid of dentists, per say, or afraid of having work done on my teeth. I just didn't have a particularly pleasant experience the last time I saw a dentist. I had to have a cavity drilled out. It took them over an hour for them to get my mouth numb enough for them to eve be able to do the procedure, then I started getting feeling back while he was still drilling. At that point, with how long it had taken to numb me the first time, I just sucked it up and dealt with the vibrations, then the pain as they were nearing completion, just to get it over with so I could get out of there. But as my luck would have it, my tongue was numb for two days after this. Go figure. The Novocain didn't last only teeth, but did its job perfectly on the rest of my mouth.
Yeah, so, needless to say, I'm not looking forward to a root canal. I am pretty damn sure that's what I'm going to need since one part of the tooth is now broken all the way down to, and possibly past, my gum. I'm thinking the pain is due to the nerve being exposed. I'm considering asking if they could just knock me out for the procedure, but at this rate, any pain has to be better than what it is causing me right now.
So, yes, I need to just suck it up, find a dentist my insurance covers, and get it the hell over with.
A little bit of irony for the day. The woman who chews my dad and I out up one wall and down twelve others when we get bad sunburns now has one herself. Mom has been silly all summer by staying out for too long when she goes out to work in the yard. Her shoulders are an unpleasant shade of brown. Not tan, mind you. Brown. Dark brown. It looks horrible. Today, she decided to give Digger a bath and now her entire back is not quite a tomato red shade, but damn close. I have already poked fun at her for the hypocriticalness of her ways.
Now, I'm off to doctor her back with several layers of vinegar and then some Solarcane.