I guess I will start with the good news. I remain gainfully employed at the thrift shop. Though the way they plow through employees, I don’t know how long this will last. Turns out, they fire people there so often, they are only “fully staffed” for the occasional week at a time. They fire people based on rumors — not things they themselves have witnessed — so it’s a miracle that I’ve lasted as long as I have. Having been there 6 months, for them, is virtually a lifetime. Since I’ve been there, one girl was fired based on a rumor (she denied it), another fired for showing up at work under the influence of alcohol (she admitted it), one of the girls in the back room was fired because she was caught setting items aside to purchase for herself (the regional manager caught her, which is the ONLY reason the girl was fired because they ALL do it. The poor girl was simply unlucky enough to get caught). A man who works in the back was fired because he was injured on the job, and took too much time off subsequent to the injury (he couldn’t afford to go to a doctor to get a note). Another girl was fired because she had too many writeups regarding shopping on the clock (again, they all do it, but she was unlucky enough to get caught). And now, a girl was fired because — initially, she was taking too much time off for being sick (she had a doctor’s note, but the managers didn’t like her taking so much time off and were just waiting for a ‘real’ reason to fire her), but then management had a stroke of luck in that one of the Mystery Tattlers said they smelled alcohol on the girl’s breath. It was all over after that.
And that’s just what I know about. A friend of mine who works for a lawyer said I should pass some of these cases along to her boss because these jokers could be sued off the planet for defamation of character and wrongful termination. I told her that I think they haven’t been sued yet because who would bother hiring a lawyer for some crummy-ass minimum wage job? Not to mention, who could afford to?
Last week, I was written up because someone on staff saw me pull a newspaper out of the trash and cut the coupons out of it — and tattled on me to the assistant manager (who hates me). Mind you, those very same coupons are provided by the REGIONAL manager who encourages us to give them out to needy customers. However, our grumpy assistant manager hates the coupons because the store loses money — and has told us that we are not to give any out unless specifically asked for one. I never realized this meant that I couldn’t cut them out of the newspaper in the garbage — would you? Doesnt’ matter. But get this: the Assistant Manager said that because I was clipping those coupons, and that’s not technically part of my job, that meant I was “goofing off”, which I have been warned about before, therefore, I was being “nonproductive” and earned a writeup. Yeah. Really. It’s just as stupid as it sounds. I was flabbergasted. And because whoever the mystery tattler is, they have it out for me every bit as much as the Assistant Manager does, I’m constantly being called in the office and being accused of stuff I didn’t do, like goofing off or passing work on to other people which is patently untrue. This gives them ammunition — in the form of the number of writeups I get — to eventually build a case to fire me. Over a rumor. Yeah. Seriously, I don’t care how many bargains I get in that place, that’s crazytown and I’m not putting up with it. Give me a couple of weeks — I’ll either leave of my own accord, or they’ll fire me based on the Mystery Tattler’s rumor-mongering.
Because the Assistant Manager was such a pompous asshole about the whole situation (a coupon? Really?), I made no secret of my intention to seek other employment. I said, “You come to me with this… complete idiocy… with no evidence! Nothing but someone else’s word — someone who refuses to go on the record to stand by their remarks. You have never witnessed any of this alleged ‘non-productive’ behavior for yourself. I honestly don’t know what to tell you. I work hard here. I bust my ass every single day. I do not goof off. I do NOT pass work along to others! I don’t know what to say except to welcome you to come on the floor and watch me for yourself. Observe me. If I’m doing something you don’t want me to do, TELL me. But I don’t want to be back here in another week with another mystery person telling you I’m goofing off. This is completely unfair! If YOU are not happy with me, I honestly don’t know how much better I can do at this job. I go home every night confident that I did everything I could every single day. I am honest and ethical in all my dealings here. I am PROUD of the work I do here — and if you disagree, after all this time, then I should start looking for other work right now.”
At this point, the assistant manager set my file down in front of her and replied, “Oh no, Margaret, don’t misunderstand. We like you and we’re really happy with you as an employee. You just need a little work in this area. Maybe we should look at this as a ‘growth point’. Maybe I do need to be on the floor more. Maybe I do need to watch you and the other cashiers. We both need to grow from here.” Ugh. Smug. I was allowed to write some comments at the bottom of the writeup sheet, but that was all. The deed was done.
The situation has become untenable. I refuse to put up with that childish, petty bullshit. And if the REAL manager, who DOES like me, isn’t willing to intercede in this vindictiveness, there’s no point in going to upper management to complain. I just need to leave of my own accord and on good terms with the REAL manager — then at least I’ll have a solid reference going into the future.
On the home front, I am now in the itsy bitsy apartment going on two months. The Brainiacs in the apartment nextdoor have finally decided to leave me alone, so our relationship is now under cold detente.
My dog Blondie died last month the day before Thanskgiving. He developed a stomach bug that wouldn’t go away, and he was in tremendous, ungodly pain for three days, forcing me to choose to euthanize him. He was my baby — I’m heartbroken, still, and find myself occasionally still crying about it so … well… as Forrest Gump might declare, “that’s all I have to say about that.” I can’t talk about it anymore.
On to other things…
Financially, I’m barely keeping my head above water, but thanks to a few fortunate turns of events (such as Christmas Greed on Ebay), I’m managing alright. People are willing to spend this time of year, so that plus access to items via my job at the thrift store, I’m not rich, but I’m okay.
For resale, the main thing I have access to through the store is clothing. I don’t know shit about designer clothing — anyone want to educate me, please comment on what names I can look for — but I do know a few designer names. One in particular that I recall from when I was skinny is “Seven for all Mankind” jeans. We get that stuff in pretty often. When I see it, I buy it and resell on ebay — a $5 investment can make me anywhere from $20-$50. Occasionally (rarely) more, but it’s still not bad.
Then there’s the jewelry. The jewelry case is part of the checkout counter at the front of the store where I am stationed. Occasionally, if the managers are busy, they will give me the jewelry to put out (that means I get first dibs on what I can buy). But — that’s not all it’s cracked up to be for various reasons. Initially, I found very little if any gold or silver. Thinking that was pretty strange, I looked into it — turns out, the manager of the thrift store was letting her husband (not an employee of the store, and a known dealer!) go through the jewelry under the guise that he was “organizing” it before it hit the sales floor; funny how all the gold and silver magically disappears in the process. Yeah. Not joking. How’s that for being a bunch of big cheating bastards? Well, for whatever reason (either she got caught doing it, or he’s just off doing other things), he hasn’t even made an appearance at the shop for over a month. Thus, the assistant manager, who doesn’t know jack about jewelry, has been tasked with organizing and pricing it. She hates it and does nothing but grumble and complain — but for me, this is GREAT news because — you guessed it — turns out there’s gold in them thar’ hills. Not pounds of it, but a few chains, earrings, and the occasional bracelet… it adds up. Even the broken stuff (which normally hits the trash) has been hitting the sales floor instead and — you guessed it — there’s gold there too! The minute those shiny sparkly things hit the case, I’m all over that like an Ethiopian on a Big Mac. This past month, I’ve found about $500 worth (only spending about $10-$15 to buy it). I may not be able to hit garage sales anymore, but as long as the manager’s husband stays away from the jewelry, I might do just fine.
Speaking of not hitting garage sales, yes, I’m still carless. That’s another reason I’m seeking out new employment opportunities. I HAVE GOT to make more money. Even with the occasional gold find, it’s not enough for me to actually “save” money toward larger purchases like the car. So if I can get a better paying full time job, I should be able to afford a cheap car within a couple of months (I hope).
Being car-less isn’t the end of the world, but it makes getting around a lot more difficult. I am losing a bit of weight though from walking everywhere, and I’m in better cardiovascular health than I’ve been in years. My apartment is located within a few blocks of downtown, so I can walk most places that I need to be. And where I can’t walk, I can take the bus. Public transportation hasn’t been my gig since I was about 19. As a teenager, I used to take the bus everywhere. What else was a poor teenager with no driver’s license and disinterested parents to do? And honestly, once you get the hang of it, taking the bus isn’t all that bad. I don’t know how buses are elsewhere, but here they are very well cared for and clean. The bus drivers are very friendly — always willing to help too. One driver in particular is quite nice and will drop me off at my cross-street if it’s the last run of the night (though it’s not technically on the route). About the worst part of bus-ing it everywhere is not the drivers nor the bus itself but the other passengers. Lots of elderly, poor, and disenfranchised ride the bus. And the occasional nutball who talks to him/herself or –worse– begins talking to me ad nauseum about whatever passes his fancy. Ugh. To cut the convos to a minimum, I usually put my nose in a book, magazine, or my cell phone — that keeps most nuts at bay.
But to be honest, the absolute main problem with being car-less is TIME. Everything takes so friggin’ long now! Getting to work — an 8-minute car ride — is an hour to an hour-and-a-half ordeal. I have to walk to the downtown station, then catch the bus which goes all over town before it gets to my destination, then I have to walk from there to the store. We’ve been lucky that the winter snows haven’t arrived yet, but when they finally do, this could get a lot more complicated a lot more quickly. Still, it’s not THAT bad. I don’t have to pay car insurance, car payments, or pay for gas. Bus is a buck per ride, or $10 per week for unlimited rides (that’s the bus pass I have).
As for laundry, forget it. I don’t do laundry unless you count washing things by hand in the bathroom. The laundromat is NOWHERE along the bus route, and about a half-hour walk from my house. No way, no how. What little I do is washed by hand in the tub.
Shopping is also complicated. Not only am I watching my pennies, but I watch how much I purchase. I used to hit the grocery store and buy BAGS AND BAGS of whatever groceries. Not any more. One or two bags max, and nothing heavy like bottled water or soda. Why? Because regardless of whether I’m bus-ing it, I still have to carry things at least a few blocks to my house. Last weekend, I overestimated the amount I could carry and almost passed out from the weight of everything. No joke. I feel like a pack mule most days.
And traveling out of town? Not happening. I can’t hit the out-of-town stores unless I have an entire day to kill transferring from bus to bus to bus. And visiting friends? Not happening. My friend Cee and her sisters live in the outskirts of town — only about 15 minutes by car, but a complete impossibility by foot (unless I have a couple of hours to kill). She normally invites me over for Christmas dinner, but I’m guessing the invite won’t come this year because — who’s going to be willing to pass on the spiked egg nog so they can pick me up and drop me off on Christmas? Probably nobody. Oh well.
Luckily for me, regarding the gold, I have Cee’s sister who meets me at work to pick up my gold finds, then takes them to our out-of-town dealer and gets me the maximum trade-in value.
That’s how I’m surviving.
As for Christmas, any of my long-time readers know that I have NOT been in the Christmas Spirit for a number of years (since M and I broke up basically) for various reasons. The good news is, this year, I am, at least a little, in the Christmas Spirit. This may be due in no small part to the fact that the store has Christmas Music playing 24/7 now. You can’t help but feel a little Christmassy after the 400th time that Der Bingle croons “White Christmas”. But however it happened, it did, and I’m grateful — it feels like starting over fresh, and reminds me of the first Christmas I spent on my own. I was 19 or 20 and was renting a small house on the lake. I had a tiny 2-foot tree, much like the one I have now. It was the prettiest little tree that I put together, and even though I felt lonely, I had my little dog (long since deceased) and for me, that little tree represented a little sprig of bright sparkly hope for the coming year and the future at large. I kept that little tree and put it up every year after that (until the storage company sold it and everything else I used to own this past fall, but we’re not talking about that now).
But now — NOW it’s a fresh start. Again. A new tree for a new life — this time, one lived on my OWN terms.
Yes, I’m back to hating my job, but I’m semi-confident that I will find something new and soon.
I took an illustration job this week to do some drawings for this crazy Jesus Freak author’s little kid’s book that she’s written; that gives me hope too. It’s nice to put pencil to paper and generate ‘art’ again, even if it is for a ridiculously cheap price. Even that feels strangely good too, even though she’s been a demanding high-maintenance client. Why is it always the ones who pay the least that demand the most?
And while I miss Blondie, I still have my redheaded step-dog who is blossoming into his own dog too. He is no longer following Blondie’s lead, so he has to find his own way around life — and he is doing splendidly! But I notice some loneliness in him. I hope to get us another dog, perhaps this spring when I can spend more money and time — not only to train another puppy, but to get into a better apartment that accepts dogs. Apartments that take dogs are rare, but given time and money, I should be able to find something.
At any rate, this is enough of a break from my illustration work. I have some drawings to finish, so I must get back to it. A pack mule’s work is never done.
