Saturday was the first 9 hour shift I had at my department store hell in a while and it was an extra strong batch of the destruction of my self-esteem and frustration that reached volcanic eruption levels. It was bad.
I’m going to sum this all up in one paragraph because the rest of my weekend wrapped up nicely with a bow and I try not to dwell on the stinky stuff. My shift was set to start at 9:45 am and I arrived at 9:30. It was cold, snowy and I was fighting a bad headache and nausea, which for your information, had nothing to do with alcohol. My Friday night was very dry! Anywho, I went to the lower level of the store to get some water, heard someone on the intercom announce that we were doing a morning rally at the top of the escalator, so when I arrived back upstairs there was everyone. We spent the next 5 minutes being read some sales associate flyer no one gives two damns about and were sent off to our respective areas for work. I was in the children’s section that day and decided to get ready for the first customers at 10 by opening the register. The store’s manager comes over and tells me that for the first 15 minutes of opening, we spend it greeting customers who come into the store. OH, so if someone comes in, grabs something to purchase and then walks it to the register to buy, they’re actually going to have to wait EVEN LONGER for me to count the money and open the register because you know, I was too busy asking them how their day was and seeing what it was they wanted to purchase. That makes sense. After that, he tells me that I should be careful where I keep my water bottle because it could spill and that he preferred that I used a plastic water bottle. Because the bottle that I use (similar to this):
Isn’t as secure as this
nor is plastic. OK MOTHERF*CKER. The store hadn’t even officially opened for the day and he was already taking jabs at my soul. I’ve had that water bottle around for months now and not one of my managers had a complaint about it, but this jackass, who to this day still doesn’t know my name, feels the need to tell me to stop using it. Couple that with me telling a manager how I wasn’t 100% that day and she responds with “Well don’t let that get in the way of you connecting with the customers,” the woman I was partnered with taking breaks every hour because her “foot hurt” and the sounds of children loudly chewing on gum, I peeled out of that place the second the clocks hit 6:15. It was such a great feeling.
Got home and Dave had a roasted chicken ready which was manna from heaven for a person who had one slice of raisin bread the whole day. I ate, cuddled up on the couch, and before I knew it, that horrible day was behind me.
Sunday was great and was the day I started writing this post that technically won’t publish until Monday because Shameless and Episodes are a bloody distraction to my productivity. We made cookies, got Dave caught up on the first season of Broad City and made chicken soup. But the day kicked off with me putting on this bad boy
Dave donated to the Reading Rainbow Kickstarter last year and got this shirt, these cool ass bookmarks
and a fridge magnet I forgot to photograph but thanks to Google looks like this
Pretty awesome shwag! Reading is fundamental! Other cliché thing here!
As you can see from the picture above, I’m wearing some BRIGHT red lipstick. I have this collection of lip crayons and glosses that all terrify me because they’re so red and “LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME.” I’m the queen of trying not to draw attention to myself who battles with years of being indoctrinated into thinking that women of my complexion can’t wear red lipstick. But I can wear all lipsticks through Lupita and Viola who strengthen me (sorry for the blasphemy)!!
Experimenting with the shades and asking the boy how they looked made him wonder what kind of damage my big red lips could do on his face.
I think he was pleased with the result.