| Strange Strangers |
[Apr. 9th, 2008|06:40 am] |
Wednesday mornings are possibly the most alarming of all my shifts. There is a regular quota of bizarre customers who I see every Wednesday.
-A boy no more than 20 who wears a suit and a badge for the 2012 London Olympics. He must be about five foot tall. He is a little bit infatuated with a part of me that doesn't exist. He says such things as "Did you tell me you worked at the other Tesco?" when I haven't actually spoken to him enough to say any of these things I did not say. The first time we met he started the conversation with "How's business?" and ended it with "No doubt I'll see you around." No doubt at all, now he comes in every Wednesday without fail.
-A lady who doesn't wear a bra even though she really needs to, who wears a crucifix and has blonde straw hair. She asks for her receipt in a seperate carrier bag, which is a huge waste of plastic.
-A woman who wears a business woman's suit, with power-highlights on a short cut. She's chubby, cheerily made up and is always wearing a decorative broach (at Christmas it was a large piece of holly with several bells attached). Always asks us to credit her for re-using carrier bags.
-The maintainence man who claims he is like a surrogate father to everyone in the store. Apparently he likes how we function like a family (?!) and he wants to share his wisdom with us (?!?!?!?!). Today he was highly abusive to Mark & Natalie for no apparent reason, so I kept saying "whoops!" and accidentally stomping on the tiles we weren't allowed to walk on.
Today I also had two boys come in and stand smiling at me. One said "Hi!" and I didn't know what to do, so I smiled. They used the self-serve machines and were messing around, which made me grin. On the way out one said "Bye!", so I said "Bye!", and then the other said "I love you. I think you're so lovely!!!" made my day. |
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| New Year's Resolutions: January |
[Feb. 1st, 2008|12:35 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | being a bitch, camera drama, diet, eating disorder, friends, gc, health, naan bread, new year's resolutions, race for life, university, work, writing | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  a cat wearing glasses | ] |
A recap on how I've stuck to my resolutions over the first month of the new year.
1. Lose weight. This is number 1 every year, and therefore desired above all else.
I lost 11lb making myself sick, and gained 7lb by eating a healthy 1,500cal a day (thus meaning 7lb of the original loss was water and muscle tissue). An overall loss of 4lb, and a very sore throat. Kudos to me.
2. Complete a piece of writing to satisfactory standards. And seek publishing, for much needed cash.
I'm no longer fussed about the damn cash, I just want to finish it, to see if I can!
3. Expand my social horizons. E.g. talk to people a little bit more, preferrably sober.
Okay, slightly unnecessary... There's nothing wrong with the people I know. I suppose I'm still searching for a soulmate, but I really don't feel the need to go out and grab people. I've made three good friends this month so that's top banana.
4. Experience better things by travelling more, saving money to see things I might not see again whilst reasonably young.
My plans for Switzerland fell through (like most of my plans) and I've been spending whatever I'm earning (sometimes more). I failed this one, poo.
5. Stop caring about Graham Collins. It may be necessary to destroy the scarf of Graham Collins or to stop drying my hair with a hair dryer (Graham Collins smells like warm air from new hair dryers) or to stop thinking about Graham Collins and to stop looking at pictures of Graham Collins and to possibly stop texting Graham Collins seconds after Graham Collins texts me. This is subject to Graham Collins' prolonged aloofness. Should Graham Collins decide to be more than a fling this resolution may be voided.
Yey! I have forgotten him completely! He is out of my life! Forever!!! Oh yeah, but I did go on a date with him last night. Right. So probably failed this one...
6. Record everything wonderful.
I've been experimenting with my camcorder and hoarding tickets and other tokens of nostalgic value. My paper journal keeping is usually a few key words to summarise the day. I've still not received my camera from the insurance company, which is irritating beyond copability.
7. Stop thinking my friends hate me. They don't hate me. That's why they're my friends. Sometimes they just don't want to hang out. And that's okay.
Actually it's been a good month for hanging out (same as January 2007), so I've kept this complex dormant (thus far).
8. Make the world a better place as much as possible, no matter how tiny the improvements may be.
I'm organising a charity run at work all by my lonesome which I'm proud of. I've also been kind to people who are absolute cunts in the hope that their cuntageness is for a reason which might be rectified by my thoughtfulness. Back to full time vegetarianism, although not veganism. *Guilt*.
9. Finalise some direction in life. A plan is not necessary, just the tools needed to secure a plan can be made if ever it should be.
I consider applying to five universities yet behaving myself at work enough for me to achieve a glowing reference a step on such a path.
10. Make money some other way that is not stacking shelves.
Ugh. I've been doing Avon. I've done two orders so far and it's awful. Old ladies suck. And their cheques bounce. And usually I'm too much of a wimp to ask for the money anyway, so if anything I'm losing money AND running myself into an early grave.
11. Set reasonable goals in every task. Walk before you run, etc.
Well, aside from diet anxiety causing mass bulimia to toilets everywhere across the UK, I fared pretty damn well.
12. Not fret about making lists with even numbers, you silly OCD biatch. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 27th, 2008|08:15 am] |
I've been trying to train myself to be ambidexturous, out of boredom at work, by doing everything with my left hand. I feel sort of sorry for it, it hurts in the palm, as if it's got a headache from concentrating so hard.
The age restricted sales policies are so stressful. You now have to look 25 or over to buy alcohol without I.D. I'm a poor judge of age, so I sympathise with anyone who is a few years out when asking for I.D. Nat asked a couple for I.D. today who claimed they were well over 25. The policy goes that whatever we say, the manager backs us up, so that no one is too afraid to I.D. people. So, when this couple get worked up and abusive, Nat calls our manager, who, in front of the customers, undermines her completely by allowing them to buy alcohol and then walking back into the office.
Nat ran out the back and just broke down in tears. Our manager came out of the office and Gemma and I hounded him into the warehouse where we had a very stern talk with him about how disgusting his behaviour was, and if one of us had gone against a policy like that we'd get a severe bollocking. I feel so upset about this because he constantly undermines ALL of us or speaks to us like shit (I gave him some helpful information earlier and he said "Great! Now can I get on with what I was doing?") and I felt he needed to know we need to be treated as at least real people, if not equals.
I now feel quite awful because he was being nice to me today for probably the first time ever, and I've crapped all over a repeat performance. I now have to go back to work in an hour and a half and deal with it. I figure I'm just going to take the brunt of his bad mood and probably be assigned all the shitty jobs, but I'm going to take it well and get on with it. I think I did the right thing.
Also apparently I have a tag for 'naan bread'. What? |
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| Boo hoo! :[ |
[Jan. 23rd, 2008|06:37 am] |
Everyone at work today was mourning collectively for Heath Ledger. It is funny seeing lots of middle aged ladies and teen girls moping around like widows. I am always shocked (and somewhat saddened) by the death of someone I recognise. What a cutie :'(
I am sick of being ill! I had a cold that seemed to last a month and a half around Xmas time (possibly a string of colds merging into one beast of disease) and had to take UNPAID time off work because the doctor suspected I was having pneumonia again. However so far it's all the symptoms of hay fever, so I'm probably just allergic to my rabbits' molt. There is a thin haze of bunny fur that I can't help but breathe in every time I go outside. *Achoo!*
I'm going bowling, how very exciting! Public humiliation is always huge fun for me.
I haven't done any sit-ups for two days. My stomach is melting back into gross-mode.
I feel sorry for all the speculation over Ellen Page's sexuality, since she is probably hoping to mask over it by dating boiz. I always get severe strong lesbian "vibes" from her, though apparently her droll-ness is just because she's Nova Scotian. It is probably making her life hard to have part-time lesbians such as myself flooding forums with questions "is she gay??? haz she had gf???" My favourite quote on the matter was found by ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) balthamos_1987
"The proof is watch juno, hse's gotta be a lesbian dudes, she acts like one, looks like one talks like one, walks like one, smells like one, tastes like one, bakes a cake like one, watches tv like one, has a baby like one, has sex on a chair like one, makes jennifer garner kiss her belly like one. PROOF INDEED!!!"
If Ellen Page "bakes a cake" like a lesbian... well, that's all the proof I need.
:S |
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| (no subject) |
[Jan. 9th, 2008|11:57 am] |
I just told my mum she had "such an attitude problem" to which she replied "la la la la la!". When did the mother-daughter roles reverse so drastically? Although I pride myself in saying I never used the "la la la" technique.
Work was a blast today! Both the meat and milk refrigerators broke down, so all the stock was pulled from them and kept in the 6x10ft back-up fridge, meaning the customers gave us their orders and we had to run all the way down to the back-up fridge into the store with whatever they ordered. If anyone ever says to me again "I'll have a six pint with the green lid, a carton of Tropicana - the original please, with the bits in! -, a pack of pork sausages, oh... and a bit of mackerel" I will not be responsible for my actions. I also volunteered myself for the job of cleaning the empty milk fridge, thinking the colleague who had to unload the delivery had pulled the short straw, only to find the job required me to peel off thick strips of congealed milk mould from the underside of the shelves. Vom.
Adam and I are meeting Monday to book our mini-trip to Switzerland. He's not as keen as I am on it, but if he drops out I'm prepared to go on my own. I spent the day in town buying Winter clothes from the sales. I'm so excited for all the SNOW. Since the only places open until April are ski-lodges we'll have to play with the ski-crowd. Hopefully one will be near a town/village. Squee! (Skiii!) |
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| Have you ever felt the kiss of a womb? |
[Dec. 2nd, 2007|03:52 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | work | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  depressed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Maps - Yeah Yeah Yeahs | ] |
Spam I received today: "Have you ever felt the kiss of a womb? With your new rod, you might!" Jesus.
Anyway, I am suffering the proletariat blues at the moment, after figuring out I am taxed one seventh of what I earn. This is probably less than a lot of people, I appreciate that, but I have a shitty job and I don't feel like I'm actually making money, considering after the taxation I pay out money to my mother for my "keep" which is actually spent on her going out rather than anything useful (e.g. fixing the boiler that was poisoning me). Then I pay for the rabs to be fed, neutered and vaccinated. I love them, but financially I made a giant mistake.
My bank account is wiped. I am working more than ever and now she wants to bump up my keep. My tax has also increased. I've taken on another job where the wage is even smaller (works out at a maximum of 100.00 a month). I can't find a flat, or anyone to share with. I live to work, I work to live. I can't go out until way after Christmas. I've tried to be prolific with my writing, no artistic staring-at-clouds-and drooling-over-Virginia-Woolf's-sentence-structure, but with all the work I have neither the time or the energy.
Fuck off Capitalism, I love you Mr. K Marx (even if you theory is a teeny bit flawed). |
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amused