How's it going? It's going.
Here I am at work again. Today is just fucking great. I spent two hours bored out of my mind on self check. There isn't much to do. You stare at the screen, compare what comes up to what's in their cart. You can count items and spot-clean the shelves or just watch little kids cry about not getting any candy. I prefer all of the above, but mostly I just read the magazine covers and hand out fake smiles . . . Every few minutes one of these buggy pieces of crap will mess up.
Earlier the scale stopped working. The lady said "Oh. I can't weigh my bananas!" There's a button you press to reset it. That didn't work-- I asked her what she'd like to do. "I guess I don't want them." Ok, bye then.
Another man wants to price-match 10 lbs. of hamburger. I say 'sure'. I type in my ID, go to the keyboard and scan it. To which the computer responds by erroring and giving the wrong entry.
Soooo . . . what else? Not sure where to start. I finally moved to Omaha with my sweety. Everything's wonderful. Bought a good truck, built ourselves brand new computers. We're still hanging on by threads at Wally-World. (Long story.) Just perfect. Then we got tired of living with the parents. Or rather, they got tired of living with us . . . Bran's mom asked us to leave after stressing that she and Jerry might not be able to renew the lease. At first, I was kind of upset. We had a bit of a misunderstanding and I felt that maybe they didn't like me or I wasn't pleasing her even though I was trying to abide by her rules.
It only took a couple months to save up, but we would have moved out sooner if not for Andy deciding against moving out. (Also a long story. No matter, we finally signed away our souls and our credit) to a nice little complex called 'Cambury Hills'. We were actually referred to it by a coworker, Barb, who lives there; and it turns out a bunch of other people from Wal-Mart live there, too. It is very convenient, considering the apartments are a mile from our workplace. We practically cut our gas consumption in half.
It sucked moving all our crap. You end up thinking you don't have that much (and in reality you really don't) until you actually have to pack it all up. It was nice buying my own stuff, actually. I spent a few hundred on the necessities and I only reget not getting a U-Haul truck. the thign is, we had to lug it up to the third floor. (Actually, Bran had to lug it up to the third floor with Jerry. >.>) Anyyyyway . . .
Yet another exciting time. Saturdays are busy but I'm on isle 14, the cigarette register. I like it. Lots of distractions allowing me to momentarily forget that I'm at work.
Lunchtime. Sweety says he's tired of standing around being a zombie all day. Of course, he just got here.
Got some overtime. Hopefully this time our checks will be good. We're tight on money right now. Grand total of 20 dollars left in checking until the 12th.
Anyway, enough about work. The starter on our truck went out the other day. That was lovely. Luckily, Andy took us to and from work a couple times. Then I had to pay the other half of my shoes. I got my feet molded and had them make me some custom insoles. I paid 120$ the first day just to put my feet in foam . . . And the second payment was 180$ for new shoes and the completed product.
Something pretty funny happened though. We had gone that Monday to pick them up, but the guy wasn't even there. We saw a sign up, instead, saying "Sorry we missed you! Went to nursing homes around the area." I was pretty mad; I'd been looking forward to actually being able to walk without pain . . . So I shrugged it off (kinda) and we mosied on over to the Olive Garden and had some din-din. I couldn't stop bitching, so we ended up going back to check again. Went up to the door--the lights were on--they were the first time, but this time someone came to the door. He said he had been waiting for me. Okay, good. We walked in and immediately I smell something strangely familiar. Marijuana. Lmfao. Priceless. So I asked him "Is there a glaucoma patient in here or what?"
Back to 14 again. I stocked everything. Nothin' to do. More on our not having money . . . Yesterday was truly fantastic. Everything was peachy. I was in a decent mood. Then comes lunchtime. Super. Lunch. I parked close to the door. I wasn't supposed to. That's okay. Opened the door. Boom! The wind blew the door against the car next to me. Thing is, the lady was on the passenger side rummaging through her stuff. she didn't even notice (it wasn't very hard) until she saw me looking down at her with this "Oh, shit!" look on my face. She proceeded with totally over-reacting. Her daughter was the driver. She parked too close to me. But I was just helpless. "Call 911!" Give me your information!" "This happened to me before! You're going to pay for this!" I'm like wtf lady, it's rubbing off with me fingernail. It'll come off with a wet rag. "No. No." Fine. I went through the glove for my insurance card. Didn't see it. Meantime, she's getting our management in on this. Good thing, I had witnesses. I found the old card. She continually asks "Do you have insurance?" Fuck you, lady, of course I do. I was pissed by now at my shit luck getting this insane woman. I tell her I don't have my license, let me go pick it up. She says no. Then I finally convince her to let me go. She said she didn't want to get me in trouble (yet she wants to flip out over nothing . . .?). So that was it. She decided to leave. She told me not to bother coming back and called off the cops.
Later I got a call from her husband saying I should care and I injured his magnificent Volkswagen Beetle. I managed to play nicey-nice and not scream . . .
It seems I'm always stressed about something. Anything. Lovely. Last night my heart burn gave me a panic attack. Just when I thought my Lexapro had really been helping . . .
One thing after another. Blah.
I had my second family death recently, too. The first was our dog Duke. The second was my grandad. He had congestive heart failure. Mom called, said he had made it and he was doing okay. Thing is, his heart was operating at 30% and his kidneys couldn't continue filtering out the morphine. Aunt Linda said he died from the morphine, in his sleep. Grandma wants to die now . . . I just regret not going to see him when we came to visit. It's so hard speaking to grandma. I did get to talk to him on the phone. He was happy, but disoriented. I'm glad his family was there to see him off.
Apparently, grandma thinks it's still 1997, so she isn't getting any better, that's for certain.
Happier thoughts.
Bran' bought Guild Wars: Nightfall. We haven't played much yet but I guess I'll give it a shot if I can ever manage to stay up past 11PM. He got sick of raiding after his guild couldn't get the first boss of The Eye down. I thought it was hilariously sad, myself. I have a 70 warrior (sucks) and now a 61 hunter (NE and draenei respectively). It's boring. I don't really like Guild wars so much, either. Iunno . . . I bought a book, um . . . I forget the title. Charlie's Myspace icon was the book's cover, so I thought it might have some promise.
This is about all I have to say for now. Scrawled it all on receipt tape, heh.
"How's it going?"
"It's going."
Earlier the scale stopped working. The lady said "Oh. I can't weigh my bananas!" There's a button you press to reset it. That didn't work-- I asked her what she'd like to do. "I guess I don't want them." Ok, bye then.
Another man wants to price-match 10 lbs. of hamburger. I say 'sure'. I type in my ID, go to the keyboard and scan it. To which the computer responds by erroring and giving the wrong entry.
Soooo . . . what else? Not sure where to start. I finally moved to Omaha with my sweety. Everything's wonderful. Bought a good truck, built ourselves brand new computers. We're still hanging on by threads at Wally-World. (Long story.) Just perfect. Then we got tired of living with the parents. Or rather, they got tired of living with us . . . Bran's mom asked us to leave after stressing that she and Jerry might not be able to renew the lease. At first, I was kind of upset. We had a bit of a misunderstanding and I felt that maybe they didn't like me or I wasn't pleasing her even though I was trying to abide by her rules.
It only took a couple months to save up, but we would have moved out sooner if not for Andy deciding against moving out. (Also a long story. No matter, we finally signed away our souls and our credit) to a nice little complex called 'Cambury Hills'. We were actually referred to it by a coworker, Barb, who lives there; and it turns out a bunch of other people from Wal-Mart live there, too. It is very convenient, considering the apartments are a mile from our workplace. We practically cut our gas consumption in half.
It sucked moving all our crap. You end up thinking you don't have that much (and in reality you really don't) until you actually have to pack it all up. It was nice buying my own stuff, actually. I spent a few hundred on the necessities and I only reget not getting a U-Haul truck. the thign is, we had to lug it up to the third floor. (Actually, Bran had to lug it up to the third floor with Jerry. >.>) Anyyyyway . . .
Yet another exciting time. Saturdays are busy but I'm on isle 14, the cigarette register. I like it. Lots of distractions allowing me to momentarily forget that I'm at work.
Lunchtime. Sweety says he's tired of standing around being a zombie all day. Of course, he just got here.
Got some overtime. Hopefully this time our checks will be good. We're tight on money right now. Grand total of 20 dollars left in checking until the 12th.
Anyway, enough about work. The starter on our truck went out the other day. That was lovely. Luckily, Andy took us to and from work a couple times. Then I had to pay the other half of my shoes. I got my feet molded and had them make me some custom insoles. I paid 120$ the first day just to put my feet in foam . . . And the second payment was 180$ for new shoes and the completed product.
Something pretty funny happened though. We had gone that Monday to pick them up, but the guy wasn't even there. We saw a sign up, instead, saying "Sorry we missed you! Went to nursing homes around the area." I was pretty mad; I'd been looking forward to actually being able to walk without pain . . . So I shrugged it off (kinda) and we mosied on over to the Olive Garden and had some din-din. I couldn't stop bitching, so we ended up going back to check again. Went up to the door--the lights were on--they were the first time, but this time someone came to the door. He said he had been waiting for me. Okay, good. We walked in and immediately I smell something strangely familiar. Marijuana. Lmfao. Priceless. So I asked him "Is there a glaucoma patient in here or what?"
Back to 14 again. I stocked everything. Nothin' to do. More on our not having money . . . Yesterday was truly fantastic. Everything was peachy. I was in a decent mood. Then comes lunchtime. Super. Lunch. I parked close to the door. I wasn't supposed to. That's okay. Opened the door. Boom! The wind blew the door against the car next to me. Thing is, the lady was on the passenger side rummaging through her stuff. she didn't even notice (it wasn't very hard) until she saw me looking down at her with this "Oh, shit!" look on my face. She proceeded with totally over-reacting. Her daughter was the driver. She parked too close to me. But I was just helpless. "Call 911!" Give me your information!" "This happened to me before! You're going to pay for this!" I'm like wtf lady, it's rubbing off with me fingernail. It'll come off with a wet rag. "No. No." Fine. I went through the glove for my insurance card. Didn't see it. Meantime, she's getting our management in on this. Good thing, I had witnesses. I found the old card. She continually asks "Do you have insurance?" Fuck you, lady, of course I do. I was pissed by now at my shit luck getting this insane woman. I tell her I don't have my license, let me go pick it up. She says no. Then I finally convince her to let me go. She said she didn't want to get me in trouble (yet she wants to flip out over nothing . . .?). So that was it. She decided to leave. She told me not to bother coming back and called off the cops.
Later I got a call from her husband saying I should care and I injured his magnificent Volkswagen Beetle. I managed to play nicey-nice and not scream . . .
It seems I'm always stressed about something. Anything. Lovely. Last night my heart burn gave me a panic attack. Just when I thought my Lexapro had really been helping . . .
One thing after another. Blah.
I had my second family death recently, too. The first was our dog Duke. The second was my grandad. He had congestive heart failure. Mom called, said he had made it and he was doing okay. Thing is, his heart was operating at 30% and his kidneys couldn't continue filtering out the morphine. Aunt Linda said he died from the morphine, in his sleep. Grandma wants to die now . . . I just regret not going to see him when we came to visit. It's so hard speaking to grandma. I did get to talk to him on the phone. He was happy, but disoriented. I'm glad his family was there to see him off.
Apparently, grandma thinks it's still 1997, so she isn't getting any better, that's for certain.
Happier thoughts.
Bran' bought Guild Wars: Nightfall. We haven't played much yet but I guess I'll give it a shot if I can ever manage to stay up past 11PM. He got sick of raiding after his guild couldn't get the first boss of The Eye down. I thought it was hilariously sad, myself. I have a 70 warrior (sucks) and now a 61 hunter (NE and draenei respectively). It's boring. I don't really like Guild wars so much, either. Iunno . . . I bought a book, um . . . I forget the title. Charlie's Myspace icon was the book's cover, so I thought it might have some promise.
This is about all I have to say for now. Scrawled it all on receipt tape, heh.
"How's it going?"
"It's going."