Blue Tuesday

I switched days this week with a co-worker, so I get a reprieve from Freak Out Wednesday.

I am back from vacation and so sad. I always hate coming back from trips and my sadness is compounded by the fact that I have to delay my plans to move closer to my boyfriend because I do not have enough money. There I was, back at work, pacing, dismayed by my delay without an end date and nearly imploding from the boredom and tedium. When I acknowledged that I must go to work and excel in order to make the money, I almost lost all semblance of sanity.

Since going out of my gourd and fleeing the store is not a viable option, I gave into an activity which may not be healthy, but sustains me in times of work panic: play shopping! I fondle merchandise which has never previously seemed attractive. A bamboo cutting board, elongated for the serving and slicing of fish? With a groove on the edge to catch the juices? I sort of need it! Especially with all the parties I host. I really don't have enough serving pieces. Ok, maybe I don't host parties, but I want to start, and maybe this lovely cutting board will be just the thing to inspire me!

When I actually type out the thoughts that went through my mind, I want to throw up. That is not the sort of person I am, right? Delusional, materialistic, irrational? The desire to host parties is okay, but thinking that a cutting board with prompt me to do it is insane. That is the thought process a hoarder goes through, right before they are crushed by a mountain of stuff.

I tossed the cutting board back onto the shelf. I don't need to acquire items to get what I want, I need to sell them. Let the merciless commerce begin.

Pre Freak-Out Wednesday

As I sit here and internet it up before work, I think about some of the things I hope not to hear today.

I do not want to get requests for daybeds, 11 foot cantilevered umbrellas, lidded candy dishes, or ceramic knives.

I do not want to be pestered by brides-to-be. Asking for updates everyday is tacky. Asking who bought what, before you receive the gifts, is tacky. Getting snippy with the staff because you planned poorly is tacky.

I do not want to hear "hip," young, heavily-tattooed people rant, in the store in front of everyone, about the price of nice cookware. How much did your "sleeves" cost? Probably more than the cookware. And though both the tattoos and the cookware might last for a lifetime, the cookware is so much more practical.

So shut up.

It's like we threw a party, but nobody came

Another slow Wednesday today, which is just as bad as a real Freakout Wednesday.

On Monday, someone burned some coffee and food onto one of the burners in the staff room, so the whole basement smells like an ashtray. I was secretly enjoying it because it reminded me of my grandma's house. She was a clean freak and an indoor smoker. My grandma died 10 years ago, but the scent association lives on.

One of our vendors makes this little sectional sofa with a "versatile" ottoman and chaise pad. The problem is that when you are not using the chaise pad, the ottoman is topped with this ugly beige cloth that does not match and can not be hidden. One of our employees suggested they cover it with the matching polyester velvet and today they sent us a picture of the new ottoman. It was the crappiest, lamest picture ever. Taken from above and photocopied, faxed, and emailed within an inch of its life, it looked like a slab of butter. I feigned excitement.

I am readdicted to candy. Eating out of boredom. Dangerous!

Freak Out Wednesday: We are April's Fools

Even before it began, I couldn't wait for this day to be over.


3. I had an elderly couple return a teapot because it dribbled from the spout. They brought in pages from a website that showed how to make teapots that don't dribble. I'll get right on that first thing tomorrow and fax those to China.

4. Today I said "hello" to a woman that was in the store. "I'm getting a gift wrapped," was her response. Oh, okay, great, I say hi because it's my job, not because I want to buy you a drink or be best friends or sell you more things. When her gift wrap was brought up, she interrupted me when I asked if she needed a bag to tell me that she needed a bag because "it's going on a plane." Uh, I thought wrapped gifts are planes were a no-no, bad idea, waste of everyone's time. Well, more money for us.

5. Staring out the window into the street, I saw a nerdy white kid with dreads, slap scratching his dead like a dog. Eww.

clearancesouppot

Wednesday again. I wish I had a story about customer shenanigans today, but I do not. Everyone was very nice, respectful, and communicative. And although it's depressingly slow, I keep smiling and being grossly positive. Because I don't have much else.

The worst thing about working slow retail is that you must learn to control your mind. The boredom can be maddening and when you do speak, it is crazed and inappropriate. I have gotten quite good at conquering the minutes. Today was rough even for me. I couldn't stop thinking about everything I wanted to be doing at home, rather than earning my living at some retail pit of despair. I make lists.

1. selling my clothes and books
2. freaking out about what i want to keep just in case this is Great Depression Part 2 and these are the last clothes i'll have for a decade or so
3. making food
4. eating candy
5. trying on dresses for my June trip
6. vacuuming my room
7. making things for the Friday art show
8. clipping the cats' nails
9. handwashing my delicate sweaters

Mr. Tumnus' neighborhood: this winter is far from over

Imagine it's Wednesday. The economy is spiraling downwards. Imagine you are so bored that you humor every customer that comes in, grateful that they remember your store. That was my day today.

There is this one older woman, E, and she sort of drives us nuts. She likes to talk big and name drop and she has this European accent and she knows she sounds pretentious. But since she is old, she feels like she deserves to be superior. Some days I can't stand it. She knows I must be nice and she will keep me in a corner and just talk. Today, we had a grand time, bitching about how they "just don't make things like they used to" and how freakish Americans are about owning sets of things. E and I became fast friends, even though she was farting up a storm.

At one point I was giving E tips on sticker removal, but she would not give up on her rant. She was practically yelling about how having to remove stickers is "THE ABSOLUTE WORST THING IN THE WORLD!". When people go into gripes like this, I try to talk them down, gently, because they are wrong. There are PLENTY of other things that are shittier. Let's make a list.

And then to finish off a day that was already dead, it snowed 4 inches.