Of Garcia, Barney and Asylum Chronicles

Lawd have mercy. It's colder than yeti tits up in this rv. Thank goodness for five dolla' fuzzy leopard print pj bottoms.

I left work early yesterday and went to Not-So-Big-City to get my new glasses. They look nice, if I do say so myself and are somewhat less "poor ho trailer trash" and slightly more "present day nerdified with a touch of designer elegance, like if Garcia from Criminal Minds had to dress slightly more business than casual."

More importantly, I can see. Well.. most of the time. As long as I don't make any sudden moves. It's my first bi-focals. The doc's sage advice? "Don't look down." I probably shouldn't have worn them straight out to the fabric store and then to Wallyworld for groceries. By the time I got to the checkout, I'd gotten myself so confused about which half to look through when, my head was bobbing and weaving like drunken prize fighter.

 But anywho...

Things at The Asylum have been.. interesting. I think I've pissed everyone off at least once in the past week. In an effort to keep myself from getting so upset over piddly chit, I've been taking a very small dose of clonazepam in the mornings. My noggin doc had suggested it as a pre-emptive measure when Bossholio would come back from his mandatory weeks off with a chip on his shoulder. Amazing how much work you can get done when you reach a chemically induced state of the notgivashits.

We have issues getting our product out the door on time. As the sole sales force (I don't count Bossholio) it makes my job.. well.. it makes it suck big red ones.. when customers call to get tracking info for their order and I have to tell them it's not going to ship for another week. Problem is, I usually don't know it's not going on time until they call and ask about it. I've been working diligently since the beginning of the year to make sure that doesn't happen anymore.

I now have a desk calendar with all the orders with their scheduled ship dates proudly displayed. Thelma calls it the headache calendar because she says I'm getting on her nerves. I call and pester the effin' crap out of everyone involved in getting stuff out the door on a daily basis. I'm determined to nip this whole "it's not my job" attitude that has spread like the plague throughout the plant, right in the bud.



Of course, to do this, I have to take on crap that totally isn't my job, but what the hell.

I know they don't like it because whenever we're discussing why this and that didn't go as scheduled and the GM walks by, Thelma gets all pissy and says, "She's trying to be efficient, keep us all on our toes, giving me a headache!"

It also means I'm in a constant pissing contest with the shipping guy, but that's sorta fun.. for me anyway.

Meanwhile, back in the girl cave...

I've got sewing supplies lying all over. The new PM wants me to make six pillows for her. Apparently her basement is the designated flop house for all the kids from the high school and she likes them to be comfy. I'm mostly using fabric I already have, but I had to buy two super sized bags of poly-fill and some muslin, which is what I was doing at the fabric store. I'm also going to try to make myself a new purse, so I needed some fabric stiffy stuff and buttons. If it comes out like I'm thinking, I might offer them for sale in my shop.

I've got a big order to fill (I sold a rug, earrings and nail oil!) and finish the purple rug I'm working on. There are also three books lying here that I need to get listed. They're not gonna sell sitting on the table.

The Amazon has exciting news at work. She's moving on up (she gets all pissed off when I call her Weezy, but I think it's cute) and will soon be working less vampire-like hours and will be off on weekends.

Anywho..

I reckon I'd better get my butt in gear. I hope ya'll have a great weekend. We'll talk again soon.

Later Taters!

P.S. Take it from me, do NOT do an image search for "yeti tits". That is all.

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