And How Was Your Black Friday, Dear? Mmm-hmmm...

Black Friday. What a name. Who came up with this name? It sounds like the start to the next great depression. Black Friday is an excuse for retailers to make money hand over fist by offering lower prices and opening their doors at ridiculous hours the day after Thanksgiving, hoping to lure in the turkey-ridden, dopamine infested public. If they did that every day, sales would be more level, people could shop around their work schedules, and nobody would die. I'm just saying.

I had the pleasure of working my first retail Black Friday since 2002 this year. I actually don't even remember working Black Friday in 2002, so perhaps it is my first retail Black Friday ever. It was a real adventure this year. Our store, thankfully opened at 6, rather than the insane 3, 4 or 5am that other stores offered. I arrived at 4:45, knowing that if I showed up after 5:30 I would not be allowed in until after the 5 hour sale (which may be a blessing, except for the suspension that would follow). I parked in the employee lot, 40 acres away from the front door and trudged toward the side door. How amazed was I to see the lot already half full? Cars running with (mostly) women drinking hot chocolate, and even a devout 45 or so people sitting outside the doors in their foldable lounge chairs, wrapped up in blankets and hats (no doubt things they were planning to buy)? Right before I got to the door, they all started to get up. Right. Then I saw that I was actually supposed to go into another door, farther down with a guard and a deadbolt. Hallelujah! That was close. So I go inside, put up balloons, and wander the store, seeing where all the "hot" items have been stocked. About 5:30, a woman comes up to the guarded door, pleading with the guard to let her in because her daughter needs to go to the bathroom. She is persuasive enough (hint: she told the guard that the girl would pee on the ground and he would have to clean it up...classy, huh?) that they were let in. The woman immediately abandoned her child and filled her arms with Holiday items. We didn't even have the cash registers on or cashiers to ring her up, I don't know what she was thinking. They were again kicked out, and lost their place in "line," I can only guess. So we continue to prepare, the lot continues to fill, people parking on the grass, on the street, at the gas station a quarter mile away. Our parking lot is set up poorly anyway, in a triangle shape where blind sides abound, and merging doesn't go well. This day people were actually parking so as to lock people in. The logic in that I am still trying to find.

At 5 minutes to 6, we were told to stand in the main aisle, so as to help guests as needed. Stand and point. Don't point. Stand and direct. For 5 hours. So we all took to our stations and waited. When the doors opened, the scene was epic. Like any country invaded by Hannibal, soldiers standing steady, watching the tide of running soldiers advance, complete with elephants in their pajamas and bedhead, who clearly didn't have time to stop and put on their bras. The earth shook, and as they all ran into the store, 98% of them turned left, and raided the Snuggies. Yes, yes, the item of choice after waiting outside for over an hour, is the Snuggie, a fleece blanket with arms. People loaded up their carts with Snuggies overflowing, and ran to the checkout. The first hour, there were no empty carts in the store (not even drywall carts) and the line reached to the back of the store for the checkout. No one thought to go outside to the garden center, where the cashiers sat lonely, drinking cocoa and no doubt laughing at the scene. For 5 hours, I stood and pointed the mass of people that blocked the aisles, items literally flying off the shelves. Pallet after pallet emptying and being removed. I marveled at the year. How all year people have been cutting back on everything because of the economy, and yet, they still find money to spend for Christmas. One by one, the radio sang out the next item that was sold out, so that we could update our ads. "2 foot summer sausages. Large Pet Beds. Wii Sports bundles. Fountains. Coffee Makers. Bakeware." Not that it helped. We ended up saying, "if there are any, they are over there..." etc. And that lady in the gray pajamas with no bra is just SO sure that there are a few in the back. Well, there aren't.

5 hours after opening, the store was back to normal; all the seasonal items gone, back to home improvement. The poor contractors that came in to do their normal business had a tough time. I sent them all up to the Garden Center for quick checkout, after a few jokes about "regular shopping" on a day like this. Most of the customers were funny, at least the men, who were no doubt dragged out by their wives, some of them with their mouths hanging open, following like a slow zombie. Some would try to make small talk while their wives careened through the aisles, leaving their cart behind. "Who got to stay home today?" They would ask. Noone. Everyone works today. This is the Holy Grail, buddy. This is where we get to show the economy we can survive, for a day. Whenever 2 people would go by, each with ShopVacs in their carts, I'd do a play by play, as if it were ShopVac Races. Only a few thought it was funny. Wit goes by the wayside when commerce is on the line.

So, I survived. My best friend came in to see me, and thankfully took me out to lunch. I was really hungry, but I was not about to go move my car just to come back! No way. People were parking on the sidewalk in front of the door. The cops were called more than once. It. Was. Chaos. I left after 8 hours, doing the bare minimum, out of exhaustion, and went home, took a nap, and went out for dinner, where I told of my exploits to the people who are not brave enough to go out on this, the holiest of shopping days. And yes, I was asleep by 8. I missed Monk. Again. :)

To my fellow compatriots in the Retail Biz, I salute you, battle well fought. Here is a photo so that the rest of you can understand just how it is, and how we get a front row seat to the freak show. And how suddenly popular and needed we are :)

Today's Song of the Day is:

Crazy Frog, Crazy Jodeling http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Crazy_Jodeling/1165386

Because, while I am completely excited about Christmas, I am finding much more joy in the Hope of the real Christmas. And this is the perfect soundtrack to Black Friday...especially the "bam bam"s that are randomly thrown in.

Screw you, Amex!

So I got up on Saturday morning, and went to pay my bills. And it happened. The last credit card I have, the American Express, the "good guys," have increased my interest rate by 6%, because of the economy, and through no fault of my own. How depressing is this? Every time I make a plan and think that things might be able to improve, I can finally get out of debt, something like this happens. I have no option of opting out, I have no choice, and even if I close the account, the interest rate will stay hiked. Boo hisss!!!! I'm PRETTY sure "the economy" has been tougher on me than it's been on you. Thanks for the heads up.

Today's song of the day (in honor of breaking up with ANOTHER credit card):

Gives You Hell, All American Rejects
http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/artist/The_All_American_Rejects/401910

short

If you wonder why I haven't been writing so often, here's a good statement that nearly sums it up:

All paid jobs absorb and degrade the mind. - Aristotle

Ever feel like jell-o when you come home? :P Nobody cares.

Moon Over My Hormones...

Oof. Last weekend I fell victim to one of the world's classic blunders. I was very hard to deal with. It would have been laughable, if I wasn't so out of control. Now it's a little laughable.



I spent the weekend entirely irritated, then irritated because I was irritated. Nothing my boyfriend said or did was right, and I made sure he knew. This all stems from an hormone pill gone awry that affected me days later with an uncontrollable bout of fake PMS, on top of which was the issue of me not sleeping at all on Friday night. I was resentful because I get up for work at 4am, and never see the sun. By the time I get home I'm sleepy or it's rainy, or whatever. I was resentful I had to work all weekend, I was resentful that I was going to have to bow out of our church's Christmas program because of my new schedule and transitioning into a new position. I was resentful that the floors just don't stay clean. I was even resentful that my boyfriend went grocery shopping without me, and he bought me ice cream, wine and flowers to make up for my mood. Maybe I didn't want those things! It was not so much fun for anyone, least of all me or him. I thought about writing, but I knew it would just come out whiny and pouty, so I kept my fingers to myself, knowing I was overreacting, but feeling totally helpless about it.

Monday I texted my best friend with some sort of comment like, "I think I need to have a cry day and get this out of my system. Can we get together for a PS I love you day?" I learned she had also had a horrible weekend and we both just gushed out, "I MISS YOUUUUU!" As soon as we got on the phone. So I decided I would keep it all in, and have our day together Thursday to cry it all out, because that is what PS I love you is for, seriously.

Tuesday, I finished work and went shopping for the few items I needed that Captain Awesome didn't know I wanted to buy. I came home exhausted, carrying my 4 bags of produce, and set it all down to lock up my garage. I picked it all back up, stepped out into the parking lot and twisted my ankle on a landscape rock that some children had strewn about. Everything went flying. Imagine the cartoon of this, cast me as an old lady, and see everything flying through the air; cucumbers, grapefruit, apples, bananas. Memory flashes went careening through my mind; I was four, and I wiped out on my bike in front of my piano teacher's house. I can imagine the feel of the dirt in my mouth and the taste of the Popsicle she gave me while she cleaned me up, grape. Peter Griffin, sitting outside after falling, holding his knee and spending way too much energy and time making pain noises; "Ssssssssst. Aaaahhhhhhh!" for 5 minutes. And the old staple for me, "don't cry now Wait for it." I sat in the parking lot, rubbing my knee and feeling 4 years old, knowing it was skinned (at what point do we stop being proud of our skinned knees and see them as a child's injury?) through my jeans, and decided not to cry. OBVIOUSLY all my neighbors are going to be at their windows watching me. Obviously. So I gathered up my now bruised food (poor me!) and walked to the house, keeping my composure by a minute measurement. I opened the door, and Captain Awesome was sitting inside, all happy because he had just connected with a friend he hadn't seen in over 10 years. I immediately changed the entire environment in the room, unable to postpone my pity party any longer. He jumped up, and I told him I tripped in the parking lot, tears streaming down my face. I blurted out some nonsense about my bananas being bruised, and my apples, and how I felt like a little kid. He tried to distract me (like a child, I might add :P) by picking up some gloves that were lying on the table. "Look honey!" he said, "You got nice new gloves for work, that was good, right?" And in between sobs I inform him that they are the wrong ones and I have to take them back. "And (heugh) I have to wear (heugh) gloves because I (heugh) don't (heugh) feel (heugh) like (heugh) a (heugh) girlllllllllllllllllllllllllllll!" Which only made me feel more stupid, so I immediately followed with "I am ONLY crying because of my knee right now!" Yeah, that was better. Shwew; I almost lost it there.

He let me cry like a baby, offered to take me out for dinner that night, and told me to go sit out in the sun for 15 minutes with my turtle. I can't BELIEVE how much that helped me. I had no idea I had Seasonal Affect Disorder, with which I am self diagnosed :) How else do you explain it? Brain tumor. (I know you're thinking it too: "It's not a tumuh!") I took a nice long bath while watching Grey's Anatomy and took a nap. Isn't that what kids do?

So, long story short, I was reminiscent of that Everybody Loves Raymond episode in season 4, where Deborah has that horrible PMS. It was great. When Thursday rolled around, I didn't really need a cry day anymore, but I took it anyway. We spent the whole movie waiting for Jeffrey Dean Morgan to show up, so we could say, "yes please," because he is soooo cute. She's awesome. And yes, I cried a little bit. It's what I watch when I need to cry!

Anyway, I am back to my old self, mostly. Bright sides everywhere, not freaking out because the dishes are in the sink or the dog ran away from me instead of to me when I called it. True story, I grabbed the leash to take the dog out, but when he saw it, he ran away. So I (very dramatically) threw down the leash and said, "FINE." That's got to be a sign of something. So when I'm whiny or being unreasonable, I say to myself, "nobody cares." It gets pretty funny after a while. Or I cough like a kid playing sick and whine, "I hate my life!" But mostly, nobody cares.

So today's song of the day is the song I listen to when I need to cheer up. It's my favorite song.

Galway Girl, by Mundy
(this was written by Steve Earl but I HATE his version. It's better to hear it in a pub, live. Plus I love Mundy. This is actually better by the accousticats, but it won't let me put in a song I have on my computer as an mp3. Plus, Sharon Shannon was a friend of my dead fiance's, and I don't listen to her for that reason. Nothing against her, I just will NOT associate that song that I love with that experience...even though she plays this version with Mundy. Fine. Whatever. Nobody cares.)

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=galway%20girl

My Week: An Experiment in Avoidance, and How Futile that was

Hello, Reader.

Did you think I died? I didn't die; I've been practicing my avoidance techniques this week. I just didn't want to hash out decisions I was making or tell you what was happening, because I felt defeated, and I wasn't really being realistic. But, everything is fine now, I guess. :)

I was offered a position at work at slightly higher pay, but I would have to work every other weekend. Coincidentally, this came the same week I joined the choir and orchestra at church. So I had to decide if I wanted to work and make more money, or stay in the choir. I don't know that I really have to choose. I don't think I do, but I may have to bow out of the Christmas program, which would be sad. But then I wouldn't have to try and get down the rhythm of this gospel syncopated version of Handel's Messiah that I am struggling with (in more ways than one). Anyway, I asked one of my managers what the hours would be like, and then I asked the other and got different answers. So I told them to talk on Wednesday and discuss my options, and we would talk about it on Thursday. Trouble was, on Thursday, my status had already been changed. It's fine, I was going to take it anyway. I have been staying a working about 35 hours a week anyway, and who knows how long they would be able to be that flexible with me, to let me stay whenever I want? Plus, if I'm going to be staying that many hours a week, I may as well get paid more for it. So it's all good, I just haven't had to work weekends in a few years. And it's only every other, so I can plan around it pretty well. Of course, the weekend I travel to Tennessee is one, as is the Christmas program at church, and all the rehearsals, but if I switch to the alternate weekend, I have to work with Team Member Valkyrie all the time, and that's just not going to be OK. It will be fine.

The reason I struggled so much is because I felt like Jim on The Office, when he was deciding whether to take the #2 position. If he took the job, then that was his career, his job. I felt the same way. If I take the position, then I'm here, and it's harder to work around it, and when people ask what I do, I have to say I'm a sales rep for a home improvement store. In my mind I can see Jon Lovitz in the movie Rat Race, jumping up and down screaming, "I don't want to work at Home Depot!" And I don't, so...

Anyway, forgive me for staying away, I just didn't want to hash all of this out on my blog, even though that's kind of the purpose of the blog. Plus my pastor's messages have really been kicking my tush lately, and while I'm sure he'll get a kick out of hearing, "Your messages have been really brutal lately, and I want to say thank you, but I don't, cause it's messing up my life..." I have only gone so far as to write on his Facebook page how he's kicking my rear. I suppose that would be the ultimate compliment for a pastor, but somehow it sounds a little...bijou. We'll work on that. Plus his whole house has been sick.

Anywho, I did have a day on Friday where I just got together with my bestie (forgive the gummi word) and watched Irish movies, ate Chinese and brownies and reminisced about our trip to the Emerald Isle, and that was lovely. Like an in-home spa day, complete with heat packs and toe separators :) I love my friends. When you lose a size because of your work, it's totally fine to pig out for an entire day, right? It reminded me of when my mom came down to visit me in Florida after the death of my Fiance. We decided we needed a break from the grieving family (let's face it, grieving families do STUPID things to each other), and we rented some movies and went to the store. We had the most comfortable King bed back at the hotel, and we just wanted to veg out (gummi) and take naps. All we could think about was getting back to that bed. We had both been so stressed, and didn't want to get out of bed for hours, so we bought whatever we wanted, because we just wanted a little of this, and a little of that. When we got back to the hotel and laid it all out, there was ice cream, grapefruits, candy, Chinese, candy, candy, candy, muffins, you name it. The whole table was covered. I wonder if she still has the picture. We did just eat a bit of this and a bit of that, but it became a TON of stuff. We had to share with the amazing staff at the hotel, who gave us beach balls and SWAG in return. Good times. Good times. Sometimes you just need a day like that to refresh yourself. I think this might have been the first day I did that since...well since 3 weeks ago when we did it with Pizza and Peanut Butter M&Ms....moving on... (in my defense, this is a VERY rare occurance. 3 weeks ago was the first time this year). Plus, here I am again, having taken a day to do NOTHING. Or 2.

So I was out walking the dog this morning, who scared up some crows in the field. They started screaming at him, and it made total sense how old crotchety women got the nickname crows. I could totally picture this old woman screaming at the dog. I watched FIDO the other night, in honor of Halloween (since I don't like scary movies unless they are funny, Shaun of the Dead and FIDO are about it for me). If you haven't seen it, FIDO is a zombie that becomes the family pet. There was this old woman in the movie, and she was an old crow. And now it makes sense. And now you're riding my stream of consciousness, which I normally save for my penpal, not for my blog, but there it is.

So, I have to go get ready to get my rear kicked again by my pastor, who is noble and good and won't settle for ritual-oriented, unreal people, so I leave you with the song of the day, which is:

Caedmon's Call: Hands of the Potter

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/search/?query=hands%20of%20the%20potter

Ugggh... Brutal. By the way, I'm starting a new blog about my faith questions, ups and downs. It's personal and really hard to write, so you should know that it is not meant to be disrespectful, but is based on the thought that true faith is a seeking faith, and no question should be off limits. It's called the Wandering Sheep Diaries, and I haven't published any of it yet, because it's not easy to admit I think this way sometimes. I wanted to have it published by the Wander-Sheep, but it appears I can only publish as Sage Grasshopper...unless anyone out there has any tips on that :)