The worst thing about vacation is the going back to work bit. Funny, I didn't miss the bitchy, rude customers on their cell phones, the insulting sexist pigs, or the politics of the idiots who bow to the Nashville Nazis. I cleared six feed pallets while the apparently inept put newer feed on the floor and left older in the backroom, filled holes that had probably been empty for days because no one noticed the bags of that feed on a strange pallet, and sweated buckets. I don't care if the store IS air conditioned, throwing that much feed by hand is lots of work. I actually kind of like it. I get to use all my girly brawn and have stupid macho idiots comment.
I have two favorite comments of the day. I almost think if I remembered all the stupid, bitchy, insulting things I could write a blog just on that. Good thing I don't remember them all or I'd be on some heavy doses of psychotropic drugs. Comment One: "I don't like your credit card machine being all the way over here...I really really hate it..." Yeah, like I can do anything about that you stupid blonde bitch, and, anyway, its only three feet further to the left than it would have ordinarily been located. Comment Two: "Do you know anything about chainsaw blades or should I ask the gentleman in the back?" Fuck you, asshole. Yes, I am a FEMALE. Girls these days can do ANYTHING. Did you miss that memo? I told you your answer. I do, however give you credit for not seeking out "the gentleman in the back" and second-guessing me. I really really hate that. And you would have gotten the exact same answer anyway.
Of course, today, we work the freight. This blows. Apparently there was no truck during my vacation. Too bad. I like it when they all have to squirm. Instead, if we have a mammoth truck they will expect me to work most of it as we have no freight team anymore, just a collection of 2 individuals who have to hop on and off registers and deal with customers just like they are NOT supposed to be doing. Yay for cutting hours...and managers making giant labor bonuses while the rest of us are asked why this or that didn't get done and are thrown under the bus when its the man who makes the schedule who should be shot through with the Arrow of Blame.
Vincent is the size of a football. And still very very cute. Wasn't fond of the brushing last night, however two very rowdy dogs were growling and barking in the other room, so he was nervous. This morning he is sniff/licking my feet and hopping about cheerfully.
We now have an Emma dog. We love her. She is settling in nicely and learning not to mess with my cats. Jon raised his voice at her yesterday and before she chased kitty this morning she looked at me as if to ask if she could chase kitty. I said no and she listened. Good girl. Sweet girl. Now, we just have to get her to stop barking at the rat dogs and the neighbors next door as though she would like to eat them. I think its do-able. She needs time and practice is all.
Fat kitty is on a strict diet. I haven't heard her yowling about the empty feed dish due to Emma and hyper doggy fun time. Good. Moose kitty seems the least perturbed, which is odd, but good since she is a good weight and doesn't need to diet.
Seriously thinking about getting into the habit of painting again. Except that I need to do something to make money that I enjoy, I think. I don't want to sell paintings particularly, I seem to hoard them and like them and give them only to people I know will love them..but I do need the money. And its not like this will be instant. Oils take at least 6 weeks to dry. I just have to get off my ass and do it either after work, before work, or on my days off. But its hard to paint uninspired....gah...creativity doesn't come with a time clock.
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