Another Work Rant - cause I really effin' hate that place

I hate working on the weekend. I hated it even before Saturday and Sunday became the only two days that Jeremy and I could actually spend the day together. Something about it just seems off to me. I'm not saying businesses shouldn't be open on the weekend, cause I want to see a movie, or shop, or get food. I'm just saying I shouldn't work on the weekend. I should sleep in (which is really only till 8-ish, I'm an early bird), and not have to be in a rush to shower and look presentable. On both days, not just Sunday. (Sunday is Jeremy's lazy day. He has absolutely no interest in doing anything that doesn't directly involve hanging out on the couch or eating food. Most Sunday's he doesn't even shower.) But ever since my stupid job made it seem like it was my fault I wasn't getting hours I have to work weekends now. HAVE to. No joke, I was told I have to be available on Saturdays and they already have me on most Sundays. So now my days off fall in the middle of the week. Yay! I get to hang out by myself like a loser cause all my flaky friends are in school or have other flaky friends to hang out with and my husband has a real job, unlike me. Who is still working in retail. Despite my intelligence, quick learning, adaptability, people skills (when I have to have them), and blah blah blah.

The most irritating part about all of this jerking me around at work is that they say it's my fault cause I'm the system for a specific position which only has off store hours. So the computer won't schedule me past a certain time. Somehow, I'm to blame for entering myself in the position even though I don't have clearance to do that. And somehow, after being offered full-time, I wasn't changed in the system to allow for that. But it's my fault. Except my availability says that I can't work past 11 am on Sundays. So naturally I was scheduled from 2-7 tomorrow night. I feel like there's a blatant flaw in their making me seem like the idiot. So I changed my availability Thursday but it didn't take so I went in yesterday and changed it again. While in the store, before I even got to the backroom, my name was hollered across the store and I was asked by a supervisor (or something) if I was visiting or if I wanted to work. And she meant immediately. Not like in a few hours, or later that evening. She wanted me to walk into the backroom, clock in, not put on my name tag cause some dumb fuck keeps stealing it from out of my locker, and get on the floor. I have shit to do! And then when I said no she was right on my case, 'do you want to work tomorrow? please? we'd really appreciate it and I'll love you forever.'

Ya know what? When you're asking an employee to pick up a shift, don't make it sound like you're asking them to let you borrow that dress you really like for a date tonight. It is juvenile and unprofessional, you small irritating children. Also unprofessional is asking me to clock in every time I come in to shop. Especially when I'm with people, more importantly when I'm with my mother and you don't know if I've driven here separately or if now I have to ask her if she wouldn't mind coming back in four hours to pick me up cause everyone else I know has a fucking life and it doesn't revolve around their job or my job. You are needy, work. Needy, and you make me feel guilty when I can't come in, or when I just don't fucking want to because you plan poorly. Constantly. You always under schedule then you plague me with calls to come in. And when I can't make it in to pick up those four hours you suddenly have free and you knew I liked the hours (correction: I do not like the hours, I like paying bills on time, and I know that girl was a no-show cause you said so in your voicemail. That's not a courtesy, that's you trying to cover your ass.) I'm the bad guy who's bringing her poverty on herself.

I hate you. And I want to quit. But no one else seems to be interested in hiring me. I deeply regret not taking that job at Wal-Mart, and that's a sentence I never thought I would have to say. And for that I hate you more.

So naturally, I said I would work today. Cause I hate that place so frickin' much, but not quite as much as student loan people calling me half a dozen times a day. They're almost tied in my hatred honestly.

Stuff I Do

I make masks sometimes. This one I made for a Halloween costume last year. Also, this is to test out blogging from my phone using the Blogger app instead of the site (like I've legitimately done a few times).

Jones Soda is trying to tell me something

While in the midst of applying for various jobs doing god knows what I opened a bottle of Jones Soda. The cap said, "Don't be hasty, prosperity will knock at your door." Or something to that effect.

Two days ago I was drinking another Jones Soda, wondering if I should buy these boots that I've been lusting after, and this cap said, "Financial decisions will prove rewarding."

Then yesterday my brother texted me regarding a business opportunity and Jeremy and I are teetering on it. Isn't feasible right now, where would we live, he needs a new job, etc. I opened another Jones Soda and this cap says to me, "Travel and money are soon in your future."

If you're wondering, no we don't spend the ludicrous amounts of money Jones Soda expects from us often, if at all. They bought too much at work and they were going to pass the sell-by date so they've been in the fridge for the employees for free for the past week or so. I take one home everyday I work. I was originally taking good flavors for Jeremy cause I don't care that much about it, but then good flavors dwindled and died. Now it's just green apple and diet vanilla bean.

ANYWAY, I find it curious that I keep getting caps talking about prosperity and travel and my future when those are the things I'm most concerned with right now. And also that I'm getting them from the place I'm hoping to get out of.

About two weeks ago now, almost three, I was asked if they could have me full-time. I said yes. Last week I got 18 hours, which is more than twice what I normally get. This week? I have 9 hours.

Jeremy says if I'm not full-time by the end of the month just to quit, whether or not I have another job, cause he's tired of them dicking me around. (Spell check came up on 'dicking.') I don't like it much either but I don't think it's wise. He makes enough for us to struggle by for about two months but I haven't had any luck finding something else (aside from Wal-Mart) for the past two years that I've been looking. I don't think the opportunity we've waiting for is going to come knocking in the next two months.

Aside: The day I was supposed to get my job offer from Wal-Mart is the day I was offered full-time. Which is why I turned down Wal-Mart. We all make really, really stupid mistakes sometimes.

Don't interrupt me when I'm trying to ignore you.

I've reached the level of apathy in my life regarding the human race that sometimes startles me. You know the one. You're sitting out somewhere, maybe on break at work, or outside enjoying the weather, and you have a book in front of you. Or a cell phone, magazine, something that can hold your interest. And someone sits down near you, or they come outside and to where you are, for some reason. You don't say anything to them. They remain there awkwardly for a moment. You think you'll be able to enjoy your book, or text conversation, catching up on trashy celebrity gossip, etc.

And then they start talking to you.

And you don't look at them.

So they keep talking.

You can hear everything that they're saying. You are completely disinterested.

And they keep talking.

Now you're pretending you're reading but you're actually not because you're so pissed off that this person is talking to you when you are clearly not talking to them, but they keep talking anyway, and you can't join the conversation now because you've come too far, and that's even if you wanted to. Which you absolutely do not. You would much rather this annoying god-forsaken individual just shut their damn mouths because you were having a perfectly good time just sitting by yourself and doing whatever the hell you were doing before they arrived needing attention like a starved child. Really though they need a good smack in the face.

If I'm reading, do not talk to me. I can hear you perfectly fine. I am never so engrossed in something, book movie, music, piece of art, sandwich, that my brain loses the ability to utilize my other senses. I know you're fucking there, and I know you're fucking talking to me. I do not care. But what you have to say is so monumentally uninteresting that I have to resort to pretending I can't hear you.

Sometimes, I'll have my head phones in at work or on a trip. My music is never so loud that I can't hear the conversation around me. What if something important is happening? I like to be aware at all times. Sometimes, my music isn't even playing. There is literally no sound coming from head phones. But I just know someone is going to try to talk to me and maybe that conversation or person will be interesting, in which case I take out an ear phone. This is generally the best indicator that I am now ready to converse with you.

Most times, I will leave in the ear phone, and I will stare blankly out of the window, or at something that isn't the person talking to me. This is also an exceptional indication that I do not want to converse with you. Take note. Do not, instead, continue speaking to me.

It makes me want to choke you.

Things That Have Been Happening

1. Jeremy's been teaching me to shoot. We went to a firing range a few weeks ago and then Saturday night at my parents we set up a redneck range, consisting of Christmas Styrofoam cups on a log on a low table with some cardboard taped up to the fence behind it so I could see where my shots were going, and using his Airsoft guns. Jeremy says I have good grouping but I still need to work on actually hitting the target. Although I have done it a few times.

2. Supposedly they're training me at work to move into a position that isn't available yet and won't be until the current employee leaves. Which could be in a month, or it could be next year. I don't want the position, and they haven't told me whether there's a pay increase (not including the fact that I'll be getting more hours so in a way it's an increase), but we need the money and I don't have anything else on the horizon. I would still need a second and possibly third job though, like now. Cause I wouldn't make what I need to be making to pay off my loans in five years. I don't want us trying to have a baby while still neck-deep in loans and renting a crappy apartment. I'd like to have made some headway.

3. We did some end of summer cleaning and cleared out just an ass load of clothing. I keep debating on whether to just give it to Goodwill or to try and re-sell it on the internet. Some of it is just crap, shirts with holes, shirts with stains, pants that have worn away in the thigh, etc. but I don't really think it'll be worth my time. I think I'll just end up spending more on shipping total than I'll make. I don't want to break even, especially cause I actually don't have any money right now.

4. Amazon's wish list and suggestions is slowly draining my life. I got on there the other day, looking for a cheap dress cause I like browsing, and then I found something I liked and I added it to my wishlist until I get paid again. Then of course Amazon was like, 'I see that you're into this dress, here's what other people are into. Take a look.' I ended up killing two hours on there, just adding shit to my wish list. There are six pages of shit I don't need but I fully expect people, or myself, to buy it all for me. Especially the books. Some of the books I didn't even read the description on, I just liked the title and there was a convenient little button underneath that said 'Add to Wishlist' and I was like, 'um, absolutely.' Stupid Amazon.

5. I recently heard that I have three months to get Thank You cards out in the mail after the reception. Is this true? Cause I've been stressing about it. First I couldn't find my paper with all the addresses on it. Then I couldn't figure out if I should write the same generic thank you in each card or if I should personalize them. Once I wrote the cards I still had to track down Jeremy and have him sign them. And now that I have them all made out, and the paper with the addresses on it, I still need Jeremy to sign them. And again, cause I'm broke I don't have stamps. I had to use a stamp from mum to mail our rent check. There's something incredibly sad about that.

This Old House

Okay so, this house we were thinking of maybe possibly investing in, it was terrifying. Not in that, spooky haunted house way. More in that, sweet Lord how you can let a young couple starting out show interest in this house without trying to talk them out of? Have you no shame?

Let's start with the roof. The work that needs done is minimal, no more than a four feet radius. But it is substantial. And that is going to lead me directly to something else which I need to wait on. Cause before that, there's the stairs to the "second floor." It's a cape cod. We're not fooling anyone here with this second floor BS. It's an attic. The ceilings are creepy and angled weird, there are essentially no closets but some roomy cubbies that look like they would meet in the middle but they certainly don't, which is surprisingly more disconcerting than if they actually did. The carpet has been pulled up in this space, like the rest of the house, but not to reveal a nice wood floor. Or even a crappy wood floor. Instead, there is kitchen tiling on the floor. Seriously. And then they carpeted over it. Cause I guess that's the thing to do? I don't know.

Oh! There's also a door up there. It opens up to the garage roof. Which is something you do with cape cods cause the house next door is also a cape cod and has a door that opens up to the garage roof. That part was kinda cool but we'd have to put up a railing on the roof to have a sweet balcony.

None of that can happen until the stairs are fixed. Every step is cracked right along the middle. All the way up. And the railing is garbage too. The stairs look like a small child assembled them. Without support in the middle. Just notched some large wood and slid some smaller wood in the notches. Cause that's how you make stairs when you want someone to fall and die.

There were some sweet pocket doors, and a huge picture window in the living room. The kitchen was a lot bigger than ours currently and it opens up right to the living room, there's no wall between the rooms. We liked that. We didn't like the foyer. Which is located right beneath where the roof needs work. I'm going somewhere with this.

Mold.

Mold, all the hell over the place. And deep in the plaster too. It was barely on the surface but once you spotted it you could trace the swollen and cracking plaster all over that damn foyer. It was kinda gross.

There's a breezeway from the garage to the house. They put in a drop ceiling, for some ungodly reason. Also, swollen with mold. Literally swollen with mold. I was worried if we stayed too long the tiles would burst and we'd be enveloped in noxious, poisonous... ya know, mold.

Then in the basement, which does not leak, somehow, there's this awful damp smell. It's thick down there, I'm telling you. We assume it's the mold behind the wood paneling. Which is a shame cause it's a nice basement.

The whole house is actually very lovely. Except there is way too much mold and carpet staples and kitchen tile in bedrooms and poorly covered roof and death stairs for the place to worth the investment. We would easily need a minimum of six grand up front just to cover rent on both places (cause it would take at least a month to get that place together) and all the minor things we'd need to get it in living condition. And I would definitely want a home inspection done, or whatever I would need to check how severe the mold damage is. It was also need reappraised cause the property tax is crazy high for that area. It's twice what my parents pay and they have a two story with three times as much land.

I don't honestly know how property tax works though. I should check that out.

I have to finish up thank you's cause it's been almost three weeks since people gave us money and stuff for getting married. We should married more often. It wasn't a bad haul.

Nail Polish and Carpet Staples

I couldn't decide what color to paint my nails, so I started mixing some of my older ones and the ones that were dwindling and making new colors. But then I still couldn't make up my mind so I'm trying out ten different ones right now. I had a few more but I kicked their asses to the curb. I'll deal with them later. Anyway, the colors turned out to be five warm shades and five cool shades so I ROYGBIV-ED that shit. And now my left hand is my cool hand. I'm calling it Luke.

In unrelated news, there's this house for sale (rent to own) near my parents that's actually kind of affordable. It's only a little bit more expensive a month than this one but it's bigger, it has a garage that isn't falling apart, and all the money we'd be sending out once a month would be going towards us actually owning the house.

It isn't very practical for me to be driving the distance to work for only four hours but I am still looking for more jobs so it might not be too bad. We still have to look at it first. My parents saw it and said it was nice but that it would need a little work. I guess the owners pulled up the carpet but don't plan on doing anything with the floors. Mum said there were still carpet staples in the floor. And it looks like the roof is going to need some work. Exciting.

I know we shouldn't be this picky, considering our financial state and that we are looking for a rent to own like this. I just don't know if I want our first house to be a fixer upper that will end up taking forever for us to fix, if we ever do get it finished. Plus, we don't have the money to have the floors done, or the roof for that matter.

I guess we could just pull up the staples and put area rugs down until we get to a point where we can throw money around. We're going to look at it tomorrow. Fingers crossed it isn't a total shack.