Pee Down the Floor Drain and Bag Your Own Poo

Homeownership.  Most of the time, its pretty cool.  I can paint the walls absurd colors, rip up carpet, make holes in the walls with no landlord bringing me down. 

And, then, something really awful happens.  Like, say, the toilet is leaking.  Has been.  The bathroom floor is getting squishy.  We buy new flooring and new plywood.  We have two guys who have refurbished bathrooms before come over to teach us how--for free--no less..and then, while trying to disconnect the sink, one of the sink shut offs will not be shut off. 

The guys, reasonably, suggest we shut off the main valve to the house so we can continue gutting the bathroom to fix the floor and the toilet. 

Umm...that's a no-go.  Our main is scary looking. Like afraid to turn it scary.  Always has been. 

So the guys are like, well, whatever, let's just fix the leaky toilet then and worry about the floor later.

They drain the toilet and pull it out.  The seal is broken. Fine, expected that.  The housing it sits into is also broken, did not expect that.  There is no way to bolt a new housing to the floor because the floor is fucked...and no way to bolt the toilet to the floor because the floor is fucked.

There is no way to shut the water off to fix the floor, and we are back to the circle of suck.

They did try reseating the toilet with a new wax seal because, yep, it is our ONLY toilet.  This, of course, failed miserably, the toilet is no longer flush with the floor; there is an inch or an inch and a half gap between the toilet and the floor because it won't seat properly and also will still leak anyway. 

So, we no longer have a serviceable toilet.

Awesomesauce.

The only way to turn the water off is to have someone turn it off at the curb.  That someone has to be licensed and insured to do so because if that valve breaks, then we really are fucked. Badly. We won't have water, will serve prison time, and incur a huge bill besides. 

So I guess we have to investigate this during normal business hours, which, of course, we now both work.  I'm not even sure who to call.  A plumber? The city?  I really don't want to call the city because then they'll demand permits and inspections. I don't want to open that can of worms but will probably have no choice.  We do have an illegal pipe just so we can have a water supply.  Why its illegal, I have no idea, but the guy who rigged it, knew it was illegal.

So we are back to square one. Replumb. 

All because we wanted to do something seemingly simple. Fix a toilet and a floor.

Also, I am now peeing down the floor drain in the laundry room, and flushing the area with water because Jon is worried I'll be put on a sex offender list for peeing outside.  Living in the city sucks.

I even took dump over the floor drain, and picked it up like you would pick up after a dog, tied off a bag and such.

Why, oh, why aren't outhouses legal anymore?

I can just imagine someone asking if it is okay to use our bathroom.  Usually, I reply with an "of course, its over there" and point.  Now, I shall have to reply "No, but do feel free to pee down our floor drain.  If you have to do a number two, here's one of those little plastic baggies from the grocery store, please bag it and take it outside and give it a toss into the garbage can.  Thanks."

My life is sooooo glamorous.

Ding Dong the Witch is Dead

Three days of training at the old 0316 with the very awesome and very competent Darlene and I was unleashed on my store to try to step up to the challenge of being a receiver.   Not that I knew how to check in a freight truck, let alone two....oh, no, that didn't stop me! 

First thing, I did the morning things.  It took seriously something like five minutes.  Except for using the torch on the night locks. That took much longer and is frowned upon, apparently, according to Dar, but everyone always uses the torch on the night locks. Perhaps corporate should spring for unfreezable night locks if they don't want us using torches?  Besides,  torches are fun and make blue flame. What's not to love?

Then I was instructed to straighten up my backroom while waiting for the DC trucks. Okay. Sigh. My predecessor apparently decided this was not part of her job even though it is part of the job.  I made it so store fixtures were fairly accessible and somewhat organized in case someone might need to set a planogram.

I was shown the wheel chocks, the truck seal, and how the dock works.  Then I unloaded a few pallets that were all shifted with things fallen off of them and constant moving the forks closer and further apart because apparently, they are loaded all willy-nilly, unlike a feed truck in which the pallets are all pointing the correct direction.  I was really slow at this. Mostly due to the fact that I was concerned my drive wheels could, I don't know, drive OVER the railing on the side of the dock if I wasn't careful.  I calmed myself by thinking, well, if the Princess could do it, then I shall learn to do it BETTER.  I was really really slow. Luckily, Scott was there, and is quick with the hi lo, so I organized pallets while he unloaded the rest of the full truck and then the halfy truck that was waiting for us to unload the first.

I was disappointed upon discovering that the Princess had carefully removed all the snacky-cakes from the snacky-cake drawer of the filing cabinet.  I was going to send them to the break room for consumption by all if she'd left any.

John helped me check in the DC trucks.  He had no idea what to do with what paperwork, so there are things I have to ask the ASM tomorrow when she works.  I could have called Darlene, but, I didn't want to bother her because she was wrestling with her own trucks. 

Then I had to count the pallets so corporate knows how much time to allot us per pallet, per tote and such because they are tools.

And then the mad sorting began.  I had all the pallets and totes sorted in five hours. Apparently that is pretty damn good for a truck and a half because John was surprised when I said, um, hey, I'm done. I need to do end of day paperwork and then I'm out.

There were presents in my locker.  Really.  Like a book and some tiny little koosh balls.  I assume Lorien stuffed them in there because no one else I asked knew anything about it. I hope it was a Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead, Which Old Witch, the Wicked Witch, celebratory kind of present.

I think I need to make notes on the paperwork end.  I just can't remember any of it.  The doing part is fine, the hard work part is fine...its the anal, number cruncher bit that I lack.

I also get to help put away all the freight I sorted tomorrow at 5 am and find rain checks I didn't manage to find, and call customers and anything else I didn't remember to do or know how to do today.

The good part is, there really isn't any time to get bored and my day is just gone and over before I know it. Awesome.  Also, with Princess Witchy gone, there seems to be less stress in the work environment and everyone is really happy for me. Nice. Very nice. I like when people are genuinely happy about something that affects me positively. 

Also, the nice truck driver said I looked 25.  Yippee!!!  Ten years younger is always a good way to look.

I am a Shipping/Receiving Department

I am starting a new job but at the same workplace.

The benefits:

No more asking co-workers to dial my extension so I can ask to pee.

Less chance of being cornered and forced to listen to long tales of  "How My Ex Wife Screwed Me Over" from customers.

No more asking constantly, "May I have your phone number, zip code, and would you like to donate a dollar to 4 H or FFA?"

No more bothering about leaving the customer side of the store immaculate before going home.

A drawer in the file cabinet all to myself.  My predecessor stored cookies in there.

When I am thirsty, I can easily get myself some water.

I will get to be outside more.

I will see my husband for more than one hour a day due to my schedule changing to mornings.

No more working weekends.

My co-workers are all genuinely happy for me (except, perhaps, the team lead who is worried about who is filling my shoes with him at store close. Yes, it does matter who is on deck.) and I am not a sneaking bitch like my predecessor so I shall get plenty of help if I but ask.

I am happy to have been given the opportunity.  I needed change, even with the stress it brings. A challenge is always welcome.

Today of is my last day of exclusive sales and customer service. I will still do it, but on a much lesser degree.

A raise.

The downside:

Traffic. It will be heavier than I am used to.

Getting the forklift stuck in snow.

The new store manager starts Feb. 25 and will be working at 7 am with me. I haven't met him before.

I only get three days training before my first day, a truck day.

Still lots of heavy lifting. I'll stay strong, anyway.

Talking to truck drivers who barely seem to speak English and aren't allowed to unload the trucks so they stare at you while you do it.

I will still smell of tires.

Miles of paperwork.

The Boring Wonderland Week

This week was all upside down and turned around.  Nothing particularly exciting. Just all...turned around, backwards, a sort of boring Wonderland of sorts.

For starters, my schedule went to mornings four of the five days I worked. I had figured the store was busier in the mornings than it actually is because of the high demand from co workers that they simply MUST open. Ummm....no...its worse than closing.  For the first three hours I have found there might, if one is lucky, be ten customers through the doors. This is awful.  And makes me wonder why my co workers struggle to get tasks done.

It does allow a cashier to do things that otherwise someone else would have to do. Such as price changes. I did them, all over the store, down every aisle without interruption or customers.  The Spurminator had me do this once when I opened at the Howell store and it wasn't a small feat.  At New Hudson, its easy. 

I tore down a gondola. I condensed heating. I assembled push mowers. I condensed toys. All in the space of four hours.  Unheard of at night. We are just a night store, the same as Howell. At noon, we had sold $400 of merchandise. Really.

Inventory happened. I, along with the Princess, spent an entire day weighing bolts and chain and rope. How...awful, really.  If  one hasn't had the particular aggravation of trying to slide a 40 pound bolt drawer back into place, and then tried to do that over and over and over for the space of a few hours then one doesn't know aggravation.  At the end of all this nonsense, we got to add long columns of weights..on a calculator with no weird little arrow to correct typos.  At that point, I was pretty certain I was in hell as I had to restart the first column something like 20 times.

And then the counting company came. I got elected to oversee clothing. Oh, bother.  For four hours I watched people hand scanning things just waiting for them to need something identified. They may have needed help all of ten times. Dull is the word. Made for a long day.

Come to find out, our inventory was awful and the DM is very displeased.  We are missing things the receiver has to hand key into the system and such. Huh.  Well, we know she's incompetent, but the first thing the company thinks is, must be internal theft. Yeah. Sure.  Now I'm offended because I know this isn't the case.  No one I work with is that dumb and our store isn't that large for this to actually happen without someone noticing. Entire pallets of feed?  An 80 gallon air compressor? Stoves?

Then, there was freight. Due to people calling off work, none of the planograms I was supposed to set happened since I was on register alllllll day.   Most of the freight went into new planos.  So I spent freight day setting planos.

Yesterday we worked on filling them. But there are still three entire walls and a giant middle fixture of planos to set and that's all in one department.  There are more planos in other departments that haven't been set either.  And there were still several pallets of freight in the backroom when we left.

We are informed that the Spurminator's "special customers" are no longer "special" and we will be trying to "wean" them off their discounts. Ummmmm? Yeah. Instructions from the DM and a sign that our new manager is going to be a dick.  And then, we have to tell them that, if they throw a shit fit (and yes, they will, one already has) we are instructed to find a manager.  I think this is ass backwards. The ASM KNOWS who these people are. When she sees them, she should make a beeline for them and have  a talk. But, since she hates confrontation, she won't, so us underlings are going to have to bear the brunt.

And that was work.



Otherwise, my mom seems to be doing well after her knee replacement surgery.

Ruth had a birthday and I babysat James the Terrible (he's just relentless, not really terrible)  so she and Joe could go out and see a movie without a baby scream babbling words throughout.  He trundled about and laughed and delighted in trying to play with the computer cords and pull the dog's hair out by the roots.  After a while, he wore himself out, got cranky and I managed to get him to snooze for about 40 minutes after which he smiled, laughed and became relentless once again. His big brother Max came home and put on some music and James bounced, danced, and laughed at that.  Then tried to rip the cat's face off.  Ruth and Joe came home and he smiled and babbled some more. It'd be interesting to know what he's babbling about since he's never quiet.

After which I was tired (since I'd had to be up at 5 am for work)  and went home and saw Jon who was only disappointed he didn't get to play with James the Terrible.  So, I guess he'll have to help watch him another time.



My body is fairly confused.  It doesn't know when to eat, sleep or poop.  It just knows its really cold outside and it likes warm socks and hot drinks.