Flannel is Soft and Amazingly Durable

After recent arguments in my house; I have determined that my 12 year old self was accurate at determining what I would become. Some things have changed for the better, here, but I'm talking essentials.

I am sitting, half drunk listening to the old Alice In Chains album, Dirt (which my brother and I dutifully wore out on cassette tape and had to replace it with a CD)  and explain to Jon why I believe the actual track "Dirt" was underrated back in the day...meaning very early 90s.  (Yes, I am old.)  I was 12 back in 1991.

                                               Yep, Time Warp...1992...I still yen for flannel.


He simply looks at me and asks me why I would think that because Dirt is one of the "classic" albums....ummm.....generational gap, here?  (I was talking about the track not the album...and...I'm not sure if the album IS considered "Classic" and could care less if it is.)  It was new to EVERYONE back in 1992 with the exception of those lucky people who got to see Alice in Chains starting out, perhaps.

                                        This somehow looks wrong; as in the colors.


I let the conversation drop and continue happily singing along, badly, probably, but Jon doesn't complain.  He SAYS I can sing...but I've heard my voice on the voice mail for Jon's phone and I think I sound like a crazed chipmunk; which is bizarre considering the blunt, straightforward way I put things, I think I should sound like a 3 pack a day for 20 years cigarette smoker.  Also, I've been around ACTUAL singers...and the normal volume of their conversation is soooo loud your eardrums will pop...their lungs/diaphragm are that much stronger, they don't even think about it...at least the really quality singers.

Then Jon asks me if I want to rent a movie.  (I don't remember its name now.)  I said that I didn't know because I'd never heard of it and asked him some questions about it.

And he kind of went all mental about me not having social networks to fall back on or people I regularly hang out with.  I assume he means on a weekly/bi weekly basis or whatever he equates with normalcy.  Whatever "normalcy"  others are talking about has never really applied to me and I really could care less what works for everyone else. 

I have a friend, her name is Ruth and she has a James...and, frankly, that's perfect enough for me.  I don't see her often enough, but schedules don't always permit and everyone is always busily trying to play catch up between work and home.

He asked me how I would hear of a movie since I'm immune to most or all advertising (true, I really am...I have this weird tune-out, it's a commercial and therefore doesn't apply thing that snaps into automatic gear) plus we don't have television in the conventional sense, meaning we have Netflix.  And, while the cd player in my car unmercifully died, and I do listen to the radio I am often annoyed enough to turn it off because of the rubbish Sammy Hagar/whatever annoying other bands they play and even if there is a good song, as soon as the station goes to commercial or some DJ ventures forth some boring and mundane opinion my mind wonders and I am in my own little world, quite immune to outside input.

I said I don't know, but why would me asking questions about it bother him so much.

I don't think he answered me.

He just went to the, "you have no friends, you are the epitome of the Grunge Age."

Maybe.  I'm not sure what the "epitome of the Grunge Age" was.  I thought it was more of an "anything goes" sort of mentality than an epitome.  Such as if the hippies, instead of being optimists who yearned to change the world had already realized they'd failed, but it was cool if someone still wanted to try to change the world....

I didn't try to be.

I just always was what I am.

I do what I like.

I am rarely, if ever, entirely or even largely influenced by others.  I like to think for myself and am easily  assimilated into The Borg.

I think corporations are evil and Borg-like...

                                    
                                            I think the Plastic Man has long been assimilated.

                                            (District Manager for those not in the know.)
                                        

I don't believe in any certain religion.  (Unless the religion of the Almighty Dollar is a religion...I believe in that...its pretty damn real..no dollar, well, you'll be really hungry....America could give a fuck less, so whatever must be done to feed yourself, well, better damn well do that, then.)

I don't have overt hope for the future and find hope to be a rather pointless emotion.  (As in: wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets filled first.)

I think, things are born into the world, live a while, maybe learn a little something, then die for no apparent reason.

I am awkward and unhappy in most, if not all, really social activities and either need to leave quickly or drink heavily...in either case, I will remain silent and in my own little world if uninterested by the company or the conversation.  It matters not if I am shit faced drunk...if I'm bored and have nothing to contribute to the conversation, I won't contribute.   I find this to be acceptable.  I'm not an argumentative drunk.  According to Jon, many of the people I've met at parties with his friends have decided, somehow, wrongly, that I just don't like THEM.  Maybe. I don't know. I didn't get to know them well enough to decide one way or the other.  I just was bored by their topic of conversation.  It seemed to consist of : 1. doing drugs back in the day 2. video games, or 3.  let's play beer pong...  I consider all those things to be boring.  Also, I don't like beer.  I also don't respond well to small talk.  It's stupid, vapid, pointless, and for those with a terminal fear of silence.

All in all, I think I am a realist...and wonder what exactly is wrong with that?  Nothing.

It's Almost Friday...but Almost Friday Doesn't Cut the Mustard

I have much hate for fourteen foot heavyweight gates. Much hate.  Ever try to balance and lean one up against the side of a business? No?  It's a particular kind of hell.  The only thing worse would be a 16 foot heavyweight gate.

After stowing nearly 30 gates--with help--I might add; my left shoulder is no longer on speaking terms with me...its on shouting terms.  Last night it shouted at me all night long.  Today it is less shouty but stiff and ouchy.  I know I did it no good by continuing my relentless two day assault on the backroom and sidelot. I am always amazed at the amount of lazy that goes on.  Also, I usually get three days for assaulting the backroom but because of the holiday, I have to work extremely hard to catch back up. 
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 I cleaned the sidelot to discover my four hour marathon last week of rearranging to clear a path for 44 pallets of wood pellet fuel...has resulted in idiots rearranging things that DO NOT NEED to be REARRANGED due to the fact that I arranged them for convenience and so that there would be NO DIGGING and therefore fucking shit up.  I also discover that all three salt pallets out front are empty because no one could be bothered to fill them over the weekend despite them being on sale.  Amber K helped with that one because she actually tries to NOT make my job more difficult.  She needs a clone.
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ASM leaves very shortly and I will be glad.  She has no qualms about making shit more difficult for me.  Let's just leave shelves lying about the backroom...or feeds...or whatever she's working on...let's just leave it half assed for someone (me) to put away to make room for the truck.  Hopefully someone already at our store gets promoted (He'd be a good ASM) or we get an actual ASM that just works ALLLLL the time.
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Also, more people need to be proficient on the forklift. I'm sick of excuses. "I can't go do this because..." Basically because...of fear.  I've put it in Amber K's ear to put Shitty Amber on shaving refill duty...yet another thing I have to do if no one else deigns to.  Amber K asked me if I'm sure..because Shitty Amber keeps dumping the shavings.  I just laughed and said..."well, if she dumps them often enough she'll learn to be more careful and to NOT dump them...just quit helping her pick them up."  I think I shall next put her on salt pallet refills.  Shouldn't be able to dump those, but I could be surprised.

I'm trying to teach Jen to be more proficient but it is slow going as her reaction time is slower than most and I think she may have depth perception issues.  I make her take the empty pallets out...and stack them in the stacks...I have recently helped her put things in the racking and take things down from the racking....that's a risky proposition...and she needs lots of coaching...if I had more time, she'd do it ten times a day until she didn't need my help.

Crystal is trying, and, on her own...which I'd rather. I'm not the boss.  Sometimes I feel like I am...only because I am more take charge than the boss...or so I think.  Fear, yet again...just need to get her loading/unloading semis...tried to get her to do the pallet truck since there is absolutely NOTHING she could break...but she was scared and Jason was available because I was uber busy...so I didn't force the issue. 

I was thrown to the wolves and made to do a feed truck (very easy) and my first truck on my own was a DC (quite difficult) and soon followed Tartar Gate (challenging) and Carry On Trailer (extremely difficult and I am still not very comfortable with that one).

Most everyone in that store has a forklift certification....now, why are they "certified" and yet somehow incapable of doing the simplest tasks?  Just make them.  That's how I learned. By doing.  Granted, I've had tons more practice...but practice is awesome. Fork some bags, tap some things, knock some shit down...pretty soon to get out of doing more work, the carefulness creeps in.

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I think we are going to be starting some more new hires.  I'm kind of scared because ASM interviewed them and she tends to really like older and female...which is fine...but these older females need to be able to toss some 50 pound bags repeatedly and hopefully have some mad life skills like knowing what a trailer coupler is and that there is a difference between a category 1 hitch and a category 3...things we are sadly lacking at the moment and I am tired of helping out on the floor because no one wants to learn or is afraid to stretch themselves by trying. 

I learned a hell of a lot about tires by stocking hundreds of them...tires and tire chains...and stupid customers with stupid questions...I don't think any female should be immune...and we have tons of females at the store who are quite capable but don't want to go out of their comfort zones of clothing, dog, cat, and horse.

I still think a couple youngish...30s 40s males would be excellent for bag tossing, life skills and dealing with all those assholes who still don't believe that women may possibly know what a solenoid is or does.  I hate dealing with those idiots.

Also, all the people that are currently register jockeys want off the register (always)  and almost all of them have physical limitations...and we need a feed tosser/forklift operator present ALL SHIFTS.  I just don't think they understand what they are asking for. Nothing against any of them.  It's a brutal job. BRUTAL. I have huge purple bruises just from today that I have no idea how I got. 

Shifts are as follows:

AM:  Manager (does price changes, customer service, phones, load outs)
        Receiver (does phones, load outs, inventory, trucks, side lot, backroom, feeds,                                                 mostly not dealing with the public)
        Cashier  (money, phones, customer service, ect.)

Mid: (We don't always get a mid...covers lunches, backs up the cashier, does customer service,  
         load outs, helps fill feeds, do special orders, ect...hopefully a jack of all trades)

PM:  Manager (special orders, customer service, phones, load outs)
        Cashier   ( money, phones, customer service, ect)
        Feed Thrower  (fills feeds and rotates feeds, can take an entire 6 hour shift, load outs)

And that is it. It's a tight crew. Someone doesn't pull their weight or its exceptionally busy...someone else gets hosed.  I know I could use a 50 hour work week instead of a 40...JUST TO STAY CAUGHT UP COMFORTABLY...however; there is no caught up comfortably...and its just a rolling bit of madness from one day to the next.