Sunday, July 20, 2014

Real Talk

The kitchen still isn't clean, but I'm working up to it. I printed out the application for the grocery store job, filled it out and checked it over. I'm going to take off at noon tomorrow from The Asylum and run to turn it in. I figure I have a better chance of catching a store manager there if I go on Monday.

I also bought groceries yesterday, so that's done. We've been getting boxes of food from various sources here and there. Sometimes Big City churches set up in the library parking lot on weekends and hand out assorted goodies. Aunt Moses gets a load of leftover food bank stuff from the school about every two weeks and she always splits it with us, so I'm stocked up on every kind of pasta you can imagine, a case of instant mac and cheese and several pounds of rice and flour. Somehow we've ended up with a stash of vanilla pudding mix, so I picked up some bananas and some vanilla wafers at the store. I've been craving banana pudding.

When people start talking smack about lazy people living on hand outs, just keep in mind that both T.A. and I have full time jobs, but sometimes Aunt Moses' little care packages are the only way we make it from pay-gone to payday.

I'm not sharing this for pity or to get attention, I just see so many people online posting stuff about welfare, handouts and how people just need to get a job.

We have jobs.

The problem is simple. The rate if inflation, the cost of living, has greatly exceeded the rate of pay increase. I had a better life 18 years ago, more "disposable" income for luxuries like clothing, decent shoes, doctor visits, etc. when I made $6 an hour.

Think about that.

The poor aren't getting poorer. The middle class is getting poor. As the gap between the haves and the have nots narrows, those yelling about welfare taking money out of their pocket, will eventually find themselves with their own hands out, dumbstruck and wondering what the hell happened.

Those are my thoughts for today. Please share your comments, just keep it nice and respectful. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters.

posted from Bloggeroid

Saturday, July 19, 2014

I Have Important Hillbilly Chit to Do

Lawd ya'll. My to do list is so long all I can do is sit here and let my head spin. Let's review, shall we?

Find a job: The German-owned grocery chain is hiring cashiers over on the little civilization oasis between here and Big City. They start at $10 an hour. I've done the math. With Jolene paid off, I have $300 a month less I have to shell out every month. I have enough in my 401K that if I quit The Asylum and cash it in, pay off the 2 loans I have against it and the ridiculous taxes, I should have enough to pay the house off and possibly pay off most of my credit card debt. I need to juice up my resume a little too and send it out to the spa here in town and the county school board.

Laundry: There is always laundry.

Bills: I need to go stick the house payment in the night drop at the bank in town. And get my cell turned back on. I had to let it go last month to get the innerweb bill caught back up.

Food: We could probably use some groceries and I seriously need some hi-test sinus drugs. I'm cookin' a brand new sinus infection.

My kitchen: Okay, truth time. I don't know if it's depression, laziness.. whatever...any reason I come up with just sounds like an excuse. Truth is, it's to the point that I'm just going to throw a bunch of pots, pans and the crock pot in the trash and start over. Seriously, there isn't enough bleach in the world to make me want to eat off that stuff again. It's hideous. We've been eating take out and nuke'em crap for a month because I can't even stand to go in there.

There's more but, those are the highlights. I had grand plans for this morning, but I didn't wake up 'til noon. I honestly think it's stress. My mind's been doing that thing where there's a constant parade of craziness running through it and it's exhausting. It gets better over the weekend and slowly builds back up as the week passes.

When I got to work yesterday, both TW and Tiny had taken off, Lulu and Thelma were gone by 10 and there I was, alone with The Groper and the Baby Engineer. Tiny finally showed up about 1:30, stopping by to ask me why The Groper wasn't back from lunch yet. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that there weren't any supervisors there so he decided to take a 2 hour lunch. Then Tiny disappeared til 3:30, I'm assuming he was hanging out in shipping with The Walrus, from purchasing. That's where all the big wigs hang out and hide. Then he left at 4. In the mean time, customers are calling me, wanting to know why their crap is late and I can't go see if it's on the dock or not, because I have to cover the switchboard.

Apparently, if you have a penis you don't have to answer the phone.

I'm tempted to bring a giant black dildo to work to wave in the air every time someone forwards the switchboard to me.

That place is such a joke.

But anywho... I guess I should at least put on some coffee and eat something. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!!!
posted from Bloggeroid

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Same Song, Next Verse

I've been piddling around my nasty house all weekend, trying to get it back in livable condition. I attacked the kitchen early on, but the southern July heat got the best of me. The weeds have grown up outside on T.A.'s end of the house so bad they're blocking her a.c. and the one in my bedroom can't cool the whole house. She just got back from Aunt Moses' to borrow a weed whacker to fix the problem.

I don't have an excuse for the state of my house. I guess I'm just triflin'. I come home from work, fire up the webby video offerings and lay down. I close my eyes and listen, trying to push all the batshit crazy Twatwaffle stress out of my head.

I've threatened, to coworkers, on Facebook, on here, to quit at least once a day.

I think we all know that's not going to happen.

My house will be paid for.. Lord willin'.. in 5 years. My plan has been that once the truck was paid for I'd be able to use that extra money to start building a privacy fence and getting the house back in shape.

And nails. I can't wait to get my nails done.

If I take a job making less money.. and any job I get in driving distance will be for considerably less.. I won't be able to afford to build a fence, fix the steps, screen in the front porch, etc. By Friday at 5 o'clock, none of that mattered, but it's Sunday, I've calmed down and realize I need to just stick it out.

I guess I just need to start medicating myself before work every day like I did when I worked for Bossholio. His replacement was interviewed last week. He looks just like him. Like.. if they were separated at birth. His name is Vern, he lives alone in a condo with two Pomeranians and his license plate says "DRCHILI."

He has dogs, so he has a soul and he laughs at the drop of a hat, so he has a sense of humor. Two things Bossholio didn't have. He'll probably start on Tuesday, if his drug test comes out okay. He's not the reason I need to take a chill pill every day.

It's Twatwaffle, who is psycho and ignorant. It's Thelma, who runs to Twatwaffle and tells her every time I go to the bathroom, leave my desk, fart, pick my nose or take any break whatsoever. She feels this is okay because she's been "helping" me by entering orders and answering the phone. Her reasoning? I shouldn't be going to the coffee pot for a refill while she's entering a sales order.

Also, Twatwaffle runs and repeats every "private" conversation we have to Thelma.

I'm sorry I keep whining about my job. I'm as tired of bitching about it as ya'll probably are of hearing it.

The other reason I'm going to try to stick it out is, I've got plans for a new online business (yes I know, here we go again.. at least I keep trying, right) and I'll need the extra money to buy inventory. I was going to do the drop ship thing, but the more I read about it, the more I realized that you're kinda at the mercy of your supplier to ship on time and it seems like a huge headache trying to keep up with what's in stock and what isn't. So I'm going to start small, ordering stuff wholesale and maybe after 5 years I'll have enough to open a brick and mortar shop. I want to sell healing herbs and oils, spell candles, incense, tarot cards, books.. that kinda thing. Not everybody's cup of tea, I realize, but my mind keeps going back to Ye Olde Mystique Shoppe in Norfolk where I used to hang out in my teens and how I always wanted that sort of business.

Anywho, the backhoe is still going next door. I entertain thoughts of suing the britches off the a-holes, but then I take a deep breath, take a sip of coffee and stand on the porch and glare.

Not exactly a plan of action, but that's all the conflict I can muster right now.

Ya'll have a good one. I'm going to put on some tea and rest a bit, maybe work on putting some of the massive laundry pile on hangers and actually IN the closet.

We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!