Wild hearts, blue jeans, and white t-shirts
So, work. Feet still raging in pain. Four straight days of 8-9hr shifts saw me at tunnel-vision point of exhaustion/pain today. Therefore when one of my supervisors called me into her office today, noting that I was a little off and not so shiny-happy, I, oh, maybe burst into tears. It honestly did not help that right before that, I was nearing black-out levels exhaustion. It also did not help that I felt dehydrated throughout the day (we're not allowed water at our register, so our only chance to get it is our one break or our lunch. If you're lucky, you might get 1 min to run to the water fountain). The result was said supervisor assuring me it was okay, it's actually not uncommon for someone not used to standing for 8 hours a day, that she still struggles with it. That everyone needs some time off the front end, and to just ask, saying, "I know I've had my break, but I just need to get out for 5 mins." Which is all nice thoughts but doesn't change the fact that it's rare for me to have a lull. And I also pretty much pleaded to be moved to the very end of the call list tomorrow, as I am on call, but also scheduled to work through Sunday. Which means if I did get called in tomorrow, it would be 9 straight days without a day off. To be honest, with that, I am not down. She also gave me the option of cutting down on hours worked, but I can't afford to do that, and I told her, point blank, the only way for me to get used to it, is to get used to it. Mom thinks I might have an actual foot problem, since I've always had some sort of foot related issue, but, again, can't exactly afford a doctor visit right now. I think it might be high-arched related, as the arch in foot seems high. Then again, I come from a family full of the flat-footed so who knows.
I am saving up for some actual work shoes.
Other things from work that I've noted/felt in the past few days:
-At least once a shift, someone asks me if I'm Irish. Let's see, I'm named Shannon as you can see from my nametag, I'm ungodly pale, esp. for a girl in the South, I have rosy cheeks and natural red high-lights in my wavy hair. How much clearer does "Yes, I am of Irish descent" need to be made?
-Apparently I am so clearly "Not From Here" b/c I call hot dog rolls, rolls and not buns.
-Also because I call shopping carts, carts and not buggies.
-And because I don't know what a collard green is on sight.
-Or okra.
-People who buy 10 boxes of soda and can't be bothered to turn the box up so I can scan the barcode piss me off. Esp. when they are regualr customers who know we have to scan said barcode.
-Why, yes, asking for paper bags is a pain in the ass. Here's a protip. You want to save the world, use reuseable bags.
-Please, don't bother getting off your cell phone while I'm trying to talk to you in order to do my job.
-And please get pissy with me when I don't give you the proper greeting because you were too busy talking on your cell phone.
-How would you like it if I came to your work and started going through your desk? Don't like it? Then stay the hell away from the back of my register.
-I know, I know, you're upset because you had to stand in line for 10 mins while coming to the grocery store at 3:30pm on a Monday. You know, right when the kids get out of school. Try to consider the fact that your cashier has probably been working since 7:00am, is exhausted, hasn't had a break in four hours etc. Please try not to be an asshole. And I know, I know, you're not supposed to bag your own groceries at our store but most rational people, seeing backed up lines and a cashier working a register/bagging on their own, will help. So, put down the Iphone and the magazine, stop being an entitled asshole, and open a damn bag. It will get you out of the store quicker, I promise.
Honestly, 98% of my customers are funny, considerate, nice human beings, who understand how packed the store is at all times. But there are just some customers you really, really have to bite your tongue with, which is something I knew from the Auto Business...which reminds me.
-We are a store, not a bank. We are not here to cash out your $100. Do not be that person who pulls out the $100 bill to pay for a $7 ticket. It's just tacky. Esp. considering the city we're located in, where there is a bank every.five.feet.
And yeah, so, the High School teacher/staff AU, kind of full speed ahead. Go Roosevelt High, Home of the Eagles. Yes I am all about trying to represent both fandoms that way. Screaming Eagles, Globe and Anchor, all tied up in one. Though I refuse to settle on which Roosevelt I'm naming it after. FDR is the obvious choice, but Teddy, I'm sure, will go down in history as the most kick-ass president ever, and I've always loved and adored Eleanor. It's the hometown Hyde Park, NY bias showing.
I am sort of basing it on my own High School course choice which I realize are so not other high schools. I mean, we had your basics, but also, Astronomy, Horticulture, Landscaping, Culinary Arts, Crafts I-IV, Graphic Arts, Bible (historical), and all those friggin electives. Plus the AP and IB courses. And shop. And Autoshop. And JROTC. And the student assistant positons. We went on an A Day/B Day schedule, with 4 classes per day. It actually did a damn good job of preparing me for college.
Time to stumble off to bed and pray I don't get called in tomorrow.
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