2005-11-04

a long rant with run on sentences and a few misspellings.

Man, what a week.
When things piss me off, I tend to internalize it. I usually refer to this as "letting it go", but I don't always let it go. Sometimes I forget about the issue for a while, so maybe that's letting it go. I dunno. All I know is that I'm probably growing a couple of tumors that I've named after certain jackasses.
I think my petty part time job is giving me a tumor on it's own. It wouldn't be nearly as big of a deal if there wasn't emotional ties and obligations tied up in it. The owners of the store where I work have been friends of mine for a few years. When they asked me to work there, it was proposed to me as a loose kind of "just help us out a bit" situation. I'm not even a real employee technically, since they just give me cash under the table each week. It was understood that yes, I'm trying to operate a new business but I need some money coming in, so I'll help out at their store for a while. Before agreeing, I mentioned that most of my customer service specific work related to our shoppe was done during the day, and one of the girls told me that it was fine for me to answer business emails there when I needed to. It all sounded very loose and simple. Oh, how things change.
Six months later, I'm not allowed to use the internet to conduct any business at all. Not even for two minutes. I've been told specifically not to use the internet. I now have a written list of tasks that has been given to me for each day I'm there. If I deviate from the list even slightly, I get a good talking to. My list includes mundane tasks such as: front, face, and restock products. Sweep and mop the floor. Be sure to clean under racks (with the word "under" underlined, and an exclimation at the end.) My favorite is: "Customers! Customers! Customers!" As if I ignore customers when they come in, or something.
Please don't think I'm complaining about cleaning and such. I'm certainly not beneath cleaning. What I AM beneath is having someone who is supposed to be my friend follow behind me as I adequately mop a floor and squack at me, "You need to mop the same direction as the floor grain. It doesn't look like you got under the racks enough. You really need to try to go exactly with the grain! Use less water, so it will dry faster." Goddamn! Shut the fuck up! I know how to mop a fucking floor! I know how to restock, face, dust, empty trash cans, and anything else you bitch at me for not doing quite well enough. What I can't do is make someone happy who cannot be pleased. Not me, not anybody. I know that you are aware of the fact that I was the sole buyer and full time manager of a store that brought in four times as much money as your little store. I did it so well that I was asked back, but turned it down to help you guys at your store instead because you were my friends. But rather than noticing my strong points, you write me off as a fuck up because I don't mop in a straight enough line? Well, fuck you. Seriously.
To add more insult to my fragile ego, one of the girls is also a rep that I do demos for. She's the one that got me the exclusive demo deal with one specific company that pays more than the rest. Since I've worked at her store, I haven't been able to do demos on Saturdays because they want me to work open to close at their store every single Saturday. So, I've been doing demos on weekdays, and sometimes on Sundays. But stores usually prefer Saturdays. So she calles me on Tuesday to tell me that the company hasn't been seeing a big return from my sales so she's going to give the demos to someone else. Yeah, she fucking fired me from the demos. When I know damn good and well that it's because I can't do Saturday demos because I'm mopping at HER FUCKING STORE on Saturdays! Again I say, fuck you.
And through all of this, I have to smile and nod and pretend that I'm not hurt by their actions as friends. I have to pretend that I'm not angry at their disrespect. They have done us favors. They allowed Ken and I to buy for our store through one of their distributors for a while when we couldn't afford minimums. I really appreciate that. It causes them no trouble at all, and in fact they made 7% off of our purchases, but I still really appreciate it because they didn't have to do that. But that gives them no right to treat me like I'm an idiot. Because I'm not! I'm a nice person. I'm smart and reliable, even if I don't mop in a straight line. Cut me a goddamn break, for fuck's sake.
I keep referring to the mopping thing, but I promise this isn't about just that. There have been many more incidents that are equally as trite, I'm just using that as an example.
.....and I won't even get into the customer who told me yesterday that the information I had given to her previously on homeopatic dilutions was incorrect, and that I should study more before telling people the wrong information. I smiled at her and said "okay", even though I knew that the information I had given her was 100% correct, and that she simply couldn't figure out what the fuck I was talking about. She said this in front of another customer, too. I was so pissed, I lulled myself to sleep last night imagining the same senario, except it ending in me strangling her with some natural waxed dental floss.
I'm only kidding. Sort of.

So, I'm getting my resume together. I'm going to try and get another imaging production job, believe it or not. We need the money pretty badly right now. The business is growing, but we won't make a profit for at least another year. I have no idea if anyone will hire me, in fact the chances are pretty slim. But I am so ready to work in a nice, unrelated field for a year or so, until the business picks up enough to do that exclusively. I don't even care what I do. I'll sew banners all day long, I don't care. As long as I can go home at night, work on Cosmo's, and know that nobody is pissed at me for sweeping poorly.
If you actually made it through this entire bitching entry, you should know that my week wasn't all bad. On Tuesday I made $75 for showing up to a market research study, even though they didn't pick me for the panel. That's awesome. Now I can pay Christy back for the concert ticket that I couldn't use.
I think I'm going to go fetal and cry for a while.