Christmas is a comin'!

Should I be worried that I haven't done any Christmas shopping yet? It's only 17 days til Christmas! Yikes! At work today, I was sweeping out the fitting rooms and I found someone's Christmas shopping list. She had a list of names, some with a few gift suggestions penciled in but most names just had question marks next to them. At the bottom she had written "Me" and underneath was a very impressive list: jeans, gloves (black, brown), sexy boots, belt...and it went on and on. I laughed because that's pretty much what my Christmas list looks like.

I'm so glad I put in my request for days off work at Christmas way back in October. I thought they would just say no, so I was surprised to see that I'm free from the 23rd to the 28th. So I'll get to spend a bit of time with the family. My parents are still trying to recover from all my conflicting announcements, "I'm quitting my job", "No I'm not", "I'm moving to New Zealand", "Never mind, I'm staying here". So I'll try my best not to confuse anyone over the holidays.

Future: Undecided

Thanks to everyone who voted in the "Where should Kathleen go?" poll. The results are in and it looks like the winner is Australia and New Zealand with 60% of the vote. That's the same thing I chose! So after hardly any thought, I handed in the SWAP (Student Work Abroad Program) application for the South Pacific combo, paid the hefty non-refundable fee, and less than two days later, completely changed my mind. I should have known better when, on my way to apply for the program, the little voice in my head said Don't do it! But the little voice offered no alternative life plan, so I did it anyway. It's not that I don't want to go; I definitely do and still plan to (especially if I can't get my money back). I just think it's the wrong time. The decision came as a result of one bad day, deciding I needed a change, and going a little overboard. I included "stay at Wal-mart" in my poll as a joke answer, but ha ha, the joke's on me because that's what I'm doing. I've already survived three Wal-mart Christmases. One more won't kill me. And now that the stress of moving is gone, I'm actually excited about Christmas. I'm relieved. Maybe I'm too old for adventure. Maybe Wal-mart is secretly drugging me. Either way, it felt too rushed. I need more time to plan and get excited about it. I'm going to leave major decision making for after Christmas.

Moving On

I hate when people interfere with my schedule so I was pretty pissed at work today when my lunch break had to be postponed because the guy who got caught stealing hundreds of dollars worth of DVDs (mostly Indiana Jones) decided to go insane and try to stab people with a dirty needle. Similar events happen often enough that I question the wisdom of having the security office/interrogation room/beating area so close to where we're expected to eat lunch. There's always some lunatic standing between me and my food. One time a crackhead ran through our lunch room trying to escape and often our friendly lunchtime conversations are punctuated with screaming and cursing from the hall. Today, Indiana Crackhead was finally subdued enough to allow for my safe passage to the fridge. I shot him dirty looks as I went by but I covered my name badge in case he was lucid enough to add me to his list of enemies. If only all the shoplifters behaved like last week's Hemorrhoid Guy, whose only crime was stealing a tube of Preparation H. When asked if it would have been less embarrassing just to buy it, he answered "Yes. Yes it would" and shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench reserved for the guilty.

Not that I don't cherish my days with these weirdos but I've decided to end my two and half year relationship with Wal-mart. My tentative last day is December 20. Since a million things could happen between now and then, I have only told a few people at work I'm leaving because nothing would be more embarrassing than having to stay after I hand in my resignation, tell off my boss, and punch a customer in the face, which is how I intend to go out.

Lofty Goals

My Wal-mart shifts these days are mostly weekdays during the day. I don't know if I can handle these daytime workers. They take their jobs so seriously. I've always thought the daytime staffers were really rude to customers. Now I understand why. You just get so involved in your little tasks. Put hook in wall, put socks on hook, put hook in wall, put socks on hook. You develop a pleasing rhythm. Then a customer comes and asks you about a bra and you want to say "Can't you see I'm doing socks?! I can't think about bras right now! Geez!" The daytime staff would have conniption fits if they knew how little work the evening/weekend workers do. The last night I worked I spent two hours talking to a co-worker, not even talking while we worked, just talking. Then I needed garlic fingers and we spent an hour ordering, waiting for, and eating the garlic fingers. I don't normally need garlic fingers but I did that night because I was still drunk from spending the afternoon on a Class of 2008 library technician pub crawl. Us library folk love our booze.

My "new" job generates a lot of waste. After I empty 30 boxes of pantyhose and mittens, I'm left with a huge stack of cardboard and a big bag of plastic bags. Disposing of this garbage is the most traumatic part of my day. The cardboard goes in the baler, a big terrifying squashing machine. It's okay if I can just throw the cardboard in and run away, but if it's full, I have to turn the machine on. I'm always scared there might be someone in there. However unlikely, it is technically possible. I don't understand why if it contains only cardboard, it makes a sound like crushing bones. The plastic is to be thrown into a giant recycling bin, the opening of which is at the height of a two storey building. Do you know how much a bag of plastic bags weighs? Like 5 ounces. The first day I tried throwing a nearly weightless bag that high, I knew it was impossible. The warehouse guys, who were there unloading a truck, stopped working long enough to offer tips and laugh like I was the funniest thing that happened all week. After it stopped being funny (approximately seven tries) someone finally did it for me. The next day I worked on my technique when no one was there and today I did it in one try! I victory punched the air. Then I decided I should maybe work on setting higher goals for myself and possibly even start applying for other jobs.

That's Not a Knife

Shorty's shopping spree at Wal-mart has also opened up some interesting new challenges at work now that I know the security guards a little better. They are constantly in need of volunteers. Whenever a woman is caught shoplifting, a female staff member has to go sit with them in the security office until the police arrive. It's basically a half hour break. The first couple of times were a breeze, the culprits scared 14-year-olds. The older she-thieves are a bit more challenging. One woman offered me a twenty dollar bribe to distract the security guards. Another time, a crackhead demanded to know if I was going to testify against her. And most recently, a drunk woman, who assaulted both the security guys, kept getting up from her bench and casually wandering around casing the exit like she was going to make a run for it. I was a nervous wreck by the time she finally got dealt with. I keep doing it though. I like their crazy stories.

I got a fake promotion. I use the term promotion loosely because there is no increase in pay, just an increase in responsibility and hassle. I'm now in charge of the accessories (purses, luggage, socks, belts etc.) department. Today I was given my own knife for cutting open boxes. This is a big deal. Not just anyone gets a knife. The knife distributor woman is very stingy. She also told me I had to watch an instructional video before I could use the knife. It's a good thing I didn't laugh because she was serious. I didn't have time to watch the video today so she made me promise twice that I would watch it tomorrow.

Take Your Shorty to Work Day

It's not that Shorty's not a nice guy. He clearly is; he has invited most of the homeless population of the city to the house to do their laundry and have baths. I am not quite so nice and am getting very fed up with this stream of strangers using the facilities and stealing my stuff. This morning I just wanted to get out of the house so I actually went to work early. But, by some magical Shorty time warp, he was already at Wal-mart when I arrived. He must have been there for some time too, because the police had already arrived. Ever since Shorty moved into my house, I have fantasized about setting him up, casually mentioning how easy it was to steal from Wal-mart (he doesn't know I work there), then tipping off security if he ever showed up. But I ended up not having to get involved at all. Shorty got caught all on his own. I wasn't really all that surprised. I was kind of expecting it.

Later, when I asked our security guy about Shorty's fate, he said the police were taking him to booking on an unrelated matter. Unrelated matter? Why does that not surprise me? Neither the shoplifting nor the unrelated matter were enough to hold him, unfortunately. He arrived home at 2am in a mood I would describe as jubilant, cracking shoplifting jokes as he parted ways with his pals.

Last Saturday he stole my shampoo, conditioner, shave gel, razor, and toothpaste. What if I'd had a job interview or something the next day? It was bad enough that I was going to see "Mamma Mia" with Janet but if she noticed that I was especially unkempt, she was too polite to mention it. And on the topic of grooming, Shorty has a new summer haircut. I guess he finally decided to accept that he's bald. He must have read my blog. I was surprised to find how much of my distrust was based on his ridiculous hairstyle. It was probably 50% theft my personal belongings, 50% skullet.

Shocking!

When I'm not at my unpaid job, I'm at my barely paid job. I'm glad I didn't quit Wal-mart yet. It keeps me grounded in what I've come to know as reality. A woman came up to me the other day and told me there was something wrong with her cart. She said she got a bad shock every time she touched it. I explained to her how passing through all the racks of clothing built up a lot of friction. Seriously, if I had a dollar for every time I got shocked during my shift, I could buy Wal-Mart. But she was looking at me like she expected me to do something. This gave me a pretty good idea about what kind of person she was, so I went into my supply room and came back with a spare bar from a clothing rack and said it was our de-shocker. I touched her cart with it and told her that now she might still get some shocks, but they would be less powerful and that she could come back if she needed me to de-shock it again. It must have worked pretty well because she only had to come back once. Helping people - it's what I do. She may have been crazy but I understand her pain. I once touched a cart and got shocked so badly I almost peed myself.

Wardrobe Malfunction

Why do the skanks always ruin things for everyone else? Very soon all employees at our Wal-mart will be required to wear new store-issued t-shirts in addition to our blue vests. Apparently there were too many cleavage related complaints from customers. I don't really blame the skanks. They don't know any better; most of them grew up in Spryfield. I do blame the people who complained. You have to expect a certain level of trashiness when you walk into a Wal-mart. If you're all fancy and super high-class, you should shop at Sears.

Because my job isn't intellectually challenging, I try to make it physically challenging. If there's an opportunity to run, I do. Instead of picking things up like a normal person, I do squats. Unfortunately my cheap dress pants were not meant to withstand the punishment I put them through at work and one hour into an eight hour shift today, I squatted to pick something up and heard a comically loud ripping sound. I wasn't too surprised; it wasn't the first time something I thought only happened in cartoons happened at Wal-mart. I checked out the damage in a mirror. There was a huge split in my pants, but it wasn't too noticeable if I stood up completely straight, which I attempted to do for the remainder of my shift. I still had to keep the sales floor tidy which I managed by doing a graceful sideways dip and swiping at fallen merchandise with a clothes hanger. I survive another day. It was a bit drafty walking home.

Spring has Sprung

Only two weeks left of school. These will be especially bad weeks because I haven't done much work all year. Will I fail community college? It's still a possibility at this point. Graduation is June 18. I'm not sure yet where I'll be doing my May work term but it better be somewhere awesome. I'll keep my day job though. Speaking of Wal-Mart, guess which one of the following things happened to me last Saturday:

a) got yelled at by a woman with a beard because we didn't have any plain black t-shirts that she liked

b) found out there is a hidden security camera in the locker room where I have often changed my clothes

c) had to do the work of two people because the only woman working with me took some ecstasy, claimed not to be able to tell colors apart, and took off somewhere with her cousin who had just been released from prison earlier that day.

Don't bother guessing. Of course, they all happened.