So, I'm just going to say it; I ignored the fact that I had a blog for awhile. But now I'm here, and you can't get rid of me.
Every time I go into work on the latter part of the week (Thursday-Saturday), I have this horrible nervousness. My chest gets tight, heart pounds, you know, the whole enchilada of terror. I hate going in on these days, not because I care about having my weekend free, but because these are the days I find out what my schedule is the week after next is. Ugh, I hate finding it out, because half the time I'm not happy with how it's been scheduled. I'm a pretty lazy person, to be honest, and I don't like it when they treat me like an actual worker.
Which brings me to my next crisis: the day after Thanksgiving, also known as BLACK FRIDAY. Not only does my retail employer think that it's fine to make us get up at 3 am to get to work at 4 (and some employee's, like our Asset Protection guy has to get there at 2), but then assigns us 10 hour shifts. Now, I'm stuck between my desire to never work that day ever and my integrity. Of course I've requested the day off, but I don't know if that will be declined (probably will). My only option then is just to call in and say, "Can't come, sorry." Most of my co-workers think that, if I've told them I can't work that day, and I tell them I won't, it's okay because they knew from the start I wouldn't show up. But isn't that... a bad thing to do?
Anyway, That's a month away, and hopefully it will all be straightened out before then. My bosses aren't horrible people, and are usually pretty understanding.
Halloween is Monday. I always used to participate as a kid--as Pinocchio one year, a dalmatian a few years in a row, black cat (without the sexiness) another, etc. One or both of my parents always used to come with me. Nothing can replace that feeling when you arrive home, candy sack in hand, and dump out all the glorious candy on the floor with that crisp plastic crinkle noise. Then comes the sorting; chocolate candies were always keepers, but pixie sticks were out of there like underwear. Sometimes I would keep the smarties, sometimes not. But those Bit O'Honeys and Now and Laters, I would give to my mom, with the Tootsie Rolls of course. I didn't really like chewie candies back then (still don't unless they are fruit flavored).
I'm pretty sure my parents didn't have to ration my candy, but maybe they did have final say on how much I could eat at one time. There's only a few candies I will absolutely gorge myself on, but most of the time, I forget that I have them. Christmas candy, for instance, has sat in my closet pretty much untouched for the better part of a year. Not that I don't want the candy, but because I have this insane need to make it last until next Christmas.
Next time (tomorrow), I will continue my discourse of Halloween. But now I feel like this may be getting too long if I say all my piece.
See you then.
M&y
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