Work it, baby, work it..

Okay, so I've been at my new job for a week now and I have to admit that it's pretty nice to work for 5 hours and then have the rest of the day free. I'm still getting used to the early mornings, though. The hardest thing has been getting to bed early enough so that I get at least 6 hours of sleep.

 

I get up at 6 and leave the house around 7:30 to be there by 8:00. That gives me enough time to walk the dogs, feed everyone, check my Facebook/email and watch some Good Morning America. As much as I despise mornings, I hate to be rushed.

I'm hoping that once I get back into the groove of being somewhere early in the morning (as opposed to Stella who got her groove back in a completely different way!) that my afternoons can be more productive. Last week, I came home and fell asleep twice!

Everyone is super nice and so far the duties are super simple. I think they're easing me in to be sure I come back the next day. My first job in the morning is as Bevvy Bim, or Beverage Bimbo. My name not theirs. These people go through coffee like crazy! They have two Keurig machines and probably go through over 75 cups a day so I have to refill them twice a day. You should see the back stock of coffee. It's literally an entire supply closet! I drink coffee only once in a whole so I really don't get it but, then, coffee drinkers have always made me scratch my head.

 

One of the more popular flavors is called Dark Magic and this is exactly what I thought of when I saw the box.

 

"Dance for Momma, boys."

I told you how when i interviewed, there was just such great energy here, right? It turns out that a bunch of the staff are huge animal lovers, too.  My immediate supervisor has two horses, three dogs and no kids so her pets are her babies, too. A kindred spirit!

It's so funny because I went from no jobs in September to three jobs now. The weekend one is an admin position for a home senior care organization. Awesome organization! Awesome people! They're a non-medical company that provides services to the elderly so we have about 200 caregivers that assist with respite care, meal preparation, light housekeeping, etc.

I can't believe that I made it all the way through the interview process without asking what the hours were. I assumed it would be 9-5 or something like that. Are you ready?

7:30-5:00!

Me. Who sleeps until 2 in the afternoon being somewhere at 7:30?? Surprisingly, it's working out ok but that was before I had the Monday through Friday gig. I really like this job, too, so I'm hoping that it doesn't become too much but it's only every other weekend so I should be fine. And Sundays are only 1-5. It's a new position for the company so they're still trying to figure it out so we'll see how it all pans out.

Oh. And I hope to get more blogging done, too! We have so much to catch up!

Monday Morning Dino

 

"No, I haven't been in the litter box and frankly, I'm a little offended that you would say that."

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.

"It's 11:59"

Original Post Date, December 19, 2009

I just sent an email to a friend at 11:59, which made me think of my favorite Blondie song, so I had to look it up. I have no clue what the hell this song is talking about but I think it's hands down the best Blondie song ever.

Then I decided to find a photo of Debbie Harry to post and I found this.



And then this...her signature "hands in hair" pose. You know, I still dream of being a platinum blonde because of her.



Well, then I found this. WHO is this woman's plastic surgeon and what is their number?? I'll save you the time in looking this up. She's 63!

(I found a better video than the one I posted the first time around. Enjoy!)

Leaning in your corner like a candidate for wax
Sidewalk social scientist don't get no satisfaction from your cigarette
It's ten to ten and time is running out
Lock up all your memories, get outa here, you know that we can run
Today can last another million years
Today could be the end of me
It's 11:59, and I want to stay alive

Pumping like a fugitive in cover from the night
Take it down the freeway like a bullet to the ocean
Wait until the morning, take tomorrow by the hand
Take it down the highway like a rocket to the ocean, we can run

Today can last another million years
Today could be the end of me
It's 11:59, and I want to stay alive

Hanging on a frequency and burning like a fire
Boy you've got the motion down, it's getting late, I'm tired and I've lost control
Don't leave me here, time is running out
Take me down the highway like a rocket to the ocean, we can run

Today can last another million years
Today could be the end of me
It's 11:59, and I want to stay alive

Hey, I know you!

I say this a lot.

 

And I get a lot of weird looks.

 

You see, I have a freakishly accurate memory of people that I've met. And I'm not talking about people that I went to school with. I'm talking about the guy I met  25 years ago who was the brother of my friend's college roommate that I met when we were at a club downtown and it was last call. His name was Dave, he was studying anthropology and was home for winter break. He drove a red Ford Probe and wore a brown leather Members Only jacket.

Leather!

And he wore Obsession for Men by Calvin Klein. Ahh...the smell of it!

 

Scary stuff, right?

I started my new job on Monday. My supervisor walked me around to introduce me to everyone and as we walked past one empty office, I looked at the name on the door and said, "I think I know her."

Of course, I was sure that I knew her. It was 1997 and I was leasing apartments while I was going to college full time. She and her boyfriend came in and rented a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment. They were about my age and I got to be friends with her boyfriend. He was in sales and I would see him out at the bars after work with his friends. He even tried fixing me up with one of them but we weren't exactly a match.

She was a stunning, petite brunette working as an admin assistant at one of the local television stations. He was always in and out of his apartment as I was touring people around the property and he had a bad habit of forgetting his keys in the front door so I would have to knock and tell him they were there. Again.

She got pregnant right before I transferred to another property and I remember him talking to me about it and telling me they were going to get engaged. I think we may have kept in touch briefly after I left but then we just fell off each other's radar.

I was able to meet her at the office a little later in the day on Monday and when I said, "I think I know you. You lived at The Timbers apartments." she gave me the requisite "Who the hell are you? I've never seen you before in my life." face and stated that she had never lived in an apartment.

A few more reminders and it all came back to her. She said she didn't remember me and I didn't give her any details of my friendship with her now ex-husband because when I tell people things in detail that I remember, I'm sure they're probably thinking that I've been stalking them all these years.

Don't they know I don't have time for that? I'm too busy randomly memorizing every detail of a chance encounter with their third cousin, twice removed, so that I can remember them when I run into them again in 25 years.

Monday Morning Maddie and Dino

 

"Don't worry, Dino. I'll be holding your hand in case you have a bad dream."

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.


"Don't try this at home"

Original Post Date, June 6, 2012


For some reason, I've had this corn on the cob kick lately. Every night, I boil one ear of corn with dinner. Last night, I got home pretty late and decided that I would treat myself to two ears of corn. So, of course, I had to use my ginormous pot instead of the small pot I usually use.

I got distracted by something and when I came into the kitchen, my yummy corn was in full boil, steam rising up to the ceiling. I don't have any pot holders, so I used two kitchen towels to pick up the pot and take it over to the sink to drain the water out. As I'm sure you know, kitchen towels aren't that thick and I could feel some of the heat coming through from one handle. I placed the pot on the edge of the sink to readjust my grip and the pot slipped.

Boiling water gushed all over the front of my legs. I was so shocked that I stood there for a second before I backed up and dropped the pot. My pants were sticking to me so I pulled them off and rushed to the freezer for some frozen veggies to put against my thighs. I looked down and my skin was peeling but I still foolishly thought it wasn't that bad. The pain wasn't really registering yet but I couldn't feel the cold against my leg so I knew that was a bad sign.

Still...I have a high tolerance for pain so I thought I could work through it.

Then the the pain started. And it was bad.

I called my sister who lives 5 minutes away and told her to come over and look at it. Miss Medical Assistant that she is, you know. Well, it was taking her far too long to get here and by now, I was starting to blister so I dialed 911.

I looked down and realized that I didn't have any pants on which is not a good look for me. I grabbed a pair of bike shorts and ripped the hem open to stretch them before I put them on. The minute they got there, they told me we had to go in to the hospital. By now, I'm crying and shaking. I did get some relief to see that none of the guys from the rescue squad went to high school with me because half of the squad who works there did. And yes, this is the kind of stuff that goes through my head even in the throes of pain.

The ER doc was pretty handsome with his salt and pepper hair and he looked straight into my eyes when he talked. If you're familiar with docs, you know this is pretty rare. The burns are second degree on my left thigh and first degree on my right. He kept asking me so many times if I was sure that I hadn't gotten any water on my genitals that I was tempted to say, "Look, if you want to see my genitals, just ask."

I was going to post a picture of the burns but they are so disgusting, I couldn't subject any of you to that. If you're curious, you can Google second degree burns but not after you've eaten.

All they basically did was apply cold compresses. They gave me some Vicodin which didn't relieve the pain so before I left they gave me a shot of Dilaudid, which is like Morphine. WOW. No wonder people become drug addicts. When we got home, I went over to my car to lock it. I realized when I went out this morning, that I hadn't even shut the window! This is some good shit.

I came home and put this on the stereo.

I saw one of my neighbors today and he yelled across the street, "what are you going to do for an encore?" I shouted back, "I think I'll shoot myself in the foot!" I love my neighbors. Really, they're the best.

I have to follow up with the burn unit tomorrow so I'll give you an update. It looks like there will be scarring, so they're going to need to find someone else for Miss July of the Cougar Calendar.

I can do that!

You know how I've been trying to find something part-time since the summer. Yes, I got the dog walking gig but I've really been looking for something that will pay a little more and have a set schedule. I've come to realize that the less structure I have in my life, the less productive I am.

It's been interesting to see what kind of jobs are out there. Some of them expect you to have oodles of experience/education and do tons of work for next to no pay. I loves the one that say they are part-time, no benefits and 35 hours a week. Wha??

The card store has kept me on as permanent part-time employee instead of just seasonal but that's only a day a week. I actually found a weekend administrative position that's every other weekend and pays a decent wage. I've been doing that for about a month now and I really like it.

I still wanted something during the week to replace the dog walking and I thought I had found a great opportunity with H&R Block. No, no...not as a tax preparer. Oh my gosh, every return I did would be audited!

Instead, as an administrative, front desk person. Scheduling appointments, filing paperwork, etc. There wouldn't be a set schedule but it was perfectly stress free and close to home. I had a phone interview, a face to face and then had to go online to take a test. All the while, no one was willing to tell me what it paid so I just continued through the process.

It seemed that I had made the cut when I got a call from the initial person that I interviewed with. She advised me that I would be getting some forms via email that I would have to fill out before I started. AGAIN, I asked what the pay would be and her response was, "That will be listed on your offer letter."

Wha??

 

How do I know if I even want the job if you won't tell me what it pays?! I interviewed, took tests and let them perform a background check on me because I figured, it's H&R Block. They're a reputable company that had a net income of $455 million in 2012. Surely, they'll pay a decent wage.

 

Then I received my confirmation letter:

 

"......pleased to offer you $8.00/hour."

 

Are you kidding me???

 

Needless to say, I didn't accept and went back to looking for something else. And then I found it: Light administrative duties, Monday through Friday 8-1, business casual.

 

Yes! THIS is what I've been looking for. I applied online and got a call later that afternoon. We spoke briefly on the phone and set up a time to meet in person. When I got there for my interview, I waited in the lobby and looked at the staircase in front of me. There were about 30 wide slatted steps (I think that's what they're called. They're the ones you can see through) At the top, they went up another flight to the left and another flight to the right. My first thought was, Good Lord. I hope they have an elevator because I will fall right down (or up) those stairs!

 

The interview went great. I met with the HR person and the manager I would be reporting to. There was just such great energy there and I had a really good feeling when I left. They called the next day to offer me the job and said, "I know we discussed the range of pay but because of your experience, we're going to pay you more."

 

Um...OKAY!

 

I was so excited! The only thing I'm a little worried about is that I haven't had to be anywhere at 8AM in forever. But, hey, I did it for jury duty, I can do it for this. (fingers crossed)

 

I can finally ditch my dog walking attire and walk into a bank or gas station again!

 

 

Hang it up

 

 

 

It's time to hang up the leashes and move on.

 

I gave my two week notice to Mr. Dog Walker and waited for a response of some sort.

 

"Why?"

 

"Can we talk about it?"

 

"I'm so sorry to hear this."

 

Even with my employees that I was happy to see go, I still wanted to know why. It's productive to know if it was the job or the working conditions or the pay or (GASP!) me. It's just good business so you are better prepared with the next person.

 

His response a day later:

 

"Got it."

 

Such a dick.

 

And much like when I gave my notice at the hospital after slaving for 6 years and no one giving a crap, it validated that I was doing the right thing.

 

When I was "training" with Trevor (a name, by the way, which must be pronounced with an 80's Valley Girl inflection - Trev-UR), I asked him if the clients knew that he was leaving and he had no idea. Obviously, he had not contacted them and didn't care but I feel that I owe them that much since they're essentially my clients. Oh, Trev-UR!

 

I decided to email them all right after I emailed Mr. Dog Walker. I seriously considered telling them how he never paid me on time and never did background checks on any of the people going into their homes and never cared if the person he hired even liked dogs but I wasn't sure what their level of loyalty was to him and I didn't want to come across as sour grapes from a disgruntled soon to be ex-employee. I decided to take the high road and tell them that I had enjoyed working with them and that this just wasn't a good fit.

 

Well, that was fine until one of them responded with, ".....there seems to be someone new every three months so just know, it's not you."

 

Of course it wasn't me! I mean, his whole email was very complimentary but I didn't want him to think that my leaving wasn't my choice. I should have just let it go, but c'mon, it's me.

 

I responded back that Mr. Dog Walker needed to learn to respect the people out there representing him or he wouldn't be able to keep anyone. Inappropriate, maybe, but at this point, I don't care.

 

I really have no idea how he's going to cover these clients. Did I mention that he doesn't even live in town? He lives in Connecticut or something. Oh well, not my problem, I guess.

 

On a happy note, found another job! 'Er...jobs. I'll fill you in tomorrow!

Monday Morning Sophie and Dino

I'm telling you...If you squint your eyes, that branch looks like a big, fat squirrel.

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.


"Prison Break"

Original Post Date, March 1, 2012

We all need a break like this on a snowy Sunday!