MY LIFE - NOVEMBER

Wednesday, November 1, 2000

I hate it when it's slow at work. I hate it when there's not a whole lot for me to do when I'm at work. There are many reasons, some of them dealing with the fact that I get myself into humongous amounts of trouble when I have nothing to do. I like to be occupied with something. I'm not someone who can just sit around and do nothing. I don't like it at all and it often leads to trouble.

Usually I'm in the one in trouble too. I was pretty good tonight, although I made some comments that were less than pleasant. I said something about something being wrinkled at one point that was heard by someone else as if I were alluding that the person may have had wrinkles. She called it wrinkleland and I asked if it was like bagland. That didn't sit well with her either, for obvious reasons. I didn't mean anything I said. I'm sure she didn't mean to knock me around with the chair she was sitting in either.

But it was slow tonight. I tried to have some things available to do, but whenever I tried to get something done, Angela would need a little help with something. It also slows me down having to explain everything that I'm doing. I know that I did a lot at the store, but I don't think it means that she's going to be doing the same amount of work that I did. If she is, she might not stick around for a while.

I hate to sound annoyed when I'm explaining things to her too, but it happens. Especially after the umpteenth time you've told her to watch what the screen is telling you. I've said it so many times it's like a broken record. I try to imply to her that it's easier to follow the screen then to constantly look down at some notes that might say the same thing. She hasn't really listened yet, but I'm hoping that she'll start doing that. It'll be easier, for everyone's sake.

I'll give Tom credit though. He's been much more patient with her than he was with me. Of course, it probably doesn't hurt that I'm a guy and Angela is a girl. That seems to make a huge difference in how he acts. But that could just be my imagination. I just don't remember him being all that patient with me at times. I remember him at a few points just to count out what he's filling and not worry about inputting. I don't know if he's done that to her yet.

I don't know how Monday went either. That was the first time that she worked and I wasn't there. I'm hoping that things went smooth, and they seem like they did, but you never know. It didn't seem like it was too busy either, judging by the numbers. I'm hoping that things went well though. It might make things easier for Tom in the future if she did okay. If not, I may be hearing calls for help.

I'm not sure if I'm up for this coming back whenever they need the help either. I'll cover Debbie's vacation at the end of November, but I'm not guaranteeing that I'll be doing much more than that. I'm not comfortable with it, and it's not because I want to be an asshole. I just don't want to transfer to a store then have to tell Steve that Tom needs me on this day and I can't work for one week because someone's on vacation. I don't want to play that game.

They never covered the nights when I went on vacation so I don't expect to have to cover nights if Angela is on vacation. I'm not going to do that. If they try to tell me that I'm needed those nights, I'll point that out. They had Jenny sometimes, but I'm not playing the whole "cover everyone's vacation" game, not after the end of the year. If they want to play that game, I'll start taking vacation time during the week that Debbie might be gone.

Again, it's not to be mean. I'm just not going to bounce between the two stores for any longer than I have to. It's not fair to me or to my future store. Are they going to expect me to do this if I go away to college and transfer to a CVS there?

I can see it now. Tom calling me at that store asking me if I'm willing to cover a vacation. I don't think I'd want to do that even if I could in that situation.

But I'll just have to wait and see what happens. If nothing else, I can come back and be a pain in the ass. That ought to make them think twice.

---

I don't know why I'm even going to talk about this. I don't why I'm even trying to figure out what's going on. You'd think I'd learn that it's impossible to understand something like this. I'm talking about certain people from Brunswick like my coworker Nick. He's 17, but aside from how he looks, he'd have you fooled.

I lived in Brunswick for 18 years, so people like him shouldn't surprise me. He has all the maturity of five year-old who's just won a lifetime supply of his favorite candy. This kid has a little toy bike that he's brought to work with him and played with in between customers. This is the same kid who was making all sorts of, uh, interesting noises with his mouth tonight. This is the same kid who talks about "Les Miserables" like it's made of gold.

What?? It's completely mind-boggling. Not just the immature sounds. No, it's that he can one minute be doing the stupidest thing ever, then the next minute talk about how much he likes a book he's reading for English. I knew the first part from watching him. I would have never guessed that he even cared to read any kind of book at all. That shocked me. The Brunswick I came from, if you had to read a book, you didn't do it. You watched the movie or asked someone else what happened.

All at once he sounds stupid and smart. It's a strange thing to watch. It's almost impossible to figure out. I don't even know why I'm trying to. He talks whether anyone's listening or not. He says things loudly about customers, even though they haven't left yet. He talks about how big his girlfriend's chest is, then ogles at the next blonde who comes in. Wait a minute, that's something most guys do.

Scratch that from the record. Anyway, he tells customers things they probably didn't need to hear. He go into detail how dry his skin is and ask every woman, only the ones he finds attractive, mind you, which lotion to use to soften them up. He then turns around and tells us something that's so gross, you have to think about it for a minute to realize he actually said what you heard.

I had forgotten how stupid guys from Brunswick can be though. Not all of them, but a few. I don't think I needed to be reminded either.

---

I've found out a couple things about myself this week that will either make you nod your head in agreement or wonder why it could all be so wrong. First off, I took this survey for some web site (I can't remember for the life of me what it was even though I just took it) that asked a variety of questions on various things. There were some questions I didn't like answering period, but chose the lesser of the two healers. After like seven pages of this thing, I found out what kind of person I was based on these questions.

If you haven't noticed the obscene picture on the main page (depends on how you interpret it anyway, I guess), I was declared a healer, only in much more fancy wording. It told me I'm someone who reaches out and helps people, regardless of what it might mean for me, if anything. I guess that's fairly true. I like to help people out to an extent, and when someone's telling me something, I'll listen.

But I don't want to sound like I'm bragging or something. The other thing I read involves my month and my birthstone, an opal or a tourmaline. Apparently these signify hope. I'm not so sure I'm someone who's filled with hope. Maybe hope that something won't be as bad as I think it will be, but I'm not someone who gets overly hopeful about things.

So I found that to be a little off. I could be wrong though. I don't always pay attention to what I say or do and I'm pretty sure that I'm not someone who's filled with hope. I frankly have a grim outlook on things and usually look at the worst case scenario when it comes down to the nitty gritty. I don't usually have a positive outlook on things. I feel what can go wrong will go wrong.

It's not healthy, but it's who I am. Maybe time will change that perspective. I doubt it though, at least at the rate things have gone for me so far. I have a lot of doubt that things will change.

Does this mean I have no soul? That was something involved with one of the questions on the survey. Would you rather sell your body or your soul? That depends on how you interpret that one and what might mean more to me. I personally think my soul is more important than my body. I feel my soul would be a more accurate reflection of myself and is much more important than my body.

Besides, who would want to buy my body anyway? I don't think it would be a very high seller.

---

I'm going to clear up one more thing since it came up tonight at work. No, I don't have large hands. No, they aren't rough either. I've had some girls tell me I have very small and soft hands for a guy. Instead, I have longer fingers than most. So instead of large and blunted, I have small and long hands. Same thing with my arms. I have long arms.

I'm like a monkey and that's what I said when Angela told me I had long fingers. So no one else has to say it. I already said it for you. It's another aspect about me that's different from most guys. I know 13 year-olds with larger hands than I have. My hands are still going to be larger than most girls (unless you happen to be related to bigfoot), but they aren't big by any standard. I'm fine with this.

The only people who say anything anyway are girls, and I don't think any of them have said anything about them in a negative manner. Jacqui once told me I had nice hands for a guy. I've been told I have nice fingernails. I'm not going to get upset over these things either. Just don't expect gorilla hands when you see me.

Another thing that throws people is that I am a very competent cook. I made my own birthday cake since no one else was around to make it. I know how to make many different meals, most of them from scratch if I choose. I regularly am the one who makes spaghetti around here, when I'm home anyway. I've made all sorts of meals and it doesn't really bother me if I have the stuff to cook with.

I also do my own laundry. I clean my own room. I put the lid on the toilet down. I'm cleaner than the women in this house. Ever see the floor by the back door? Me neither. There's so many pairs of shoes, you could supply an orphanage and still have some left over. I don't worry about stepping on them anymore. You can't jump far enough to avoid them.

Do all these things make me a wimpy-ass guy? I guess so. Just one thing though. I may not be large, I may not be all that strange, but I'll be damned if anyone fucks with the people I care about. I am very protective of those who mean something to me. That means my mom, my sisters, and a couple of the people I talk to on a regular basis. I may not be big, but I'll put up a fight.

I'll probably get killed too, but I don't think I'd care. I stand up for those I care about. Don't think I won't just because I'm at a disadvantage. I've made a living out of going at larger people. I'm not going to back down if someone I care about is being threatened.

So don't fuck with people I know. If nothing else, I can be very annoying.