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I’m Gonna Lose My Job (Again?)

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I mean, I kinda say this on a daily basis. “I’m going to get fired today.” But for good reason. I have reached my limit of taking bullshit. Mostly at work. Mostly with bosses and co-workers. Most recently, my immediate boss. She hasn’t even been in our store a year, but she got the job over me, who has been there for over three years. OK, OK, she has experience being in that position. Whatever.

In our store, we have this one register, home fashions, that gets few to no customers. So we sometimes just leave it closed/locked. If you’re the one scheduled to be at that register for the day, but there is no floater to cover lunches, then it’s your job to lock up the registers and cover lunches. Simple as that. It’s been that way the whole time I’ve been there. Well, one day, I was scheduled to be at that register, and there was no floater for lunches. My boss, R, called me on the work phone and said, “I know I didn’t say it on the [control/schedule] sheet, but you cover lunches today, OK?”

…Seriously? I’ve been here a shitton longer than you. I KNOW my fucking job.

OK, OK, that’s not too awful bad. But she does this shit all the time. Directing us and telling us what to do when we already know what the fuck to do.

The other day, I had a customer issue that I literally could not solve with my status as lowly little cashier. I needed a manager to handle it. So, I called a manager over. She calls the phone and asks what the problem is, etc. I can’t explain it very well because I have a line. She goes, “can’t you solve it yourself?”

…Now I’m pissed. I’ve been here over three years doing the same thing the whole time. If I could solve it myself, YES, I would fucking solve it myself. I’ve solved many a complicated issue in my time. On top of that, you’re my manager. If I need you, you fucking COME  OVER, no questions asked. That’s your job.

Oh, but it gets better.

We have this new girl, A. She’s naturally shy and anxious, and she took this job to improve her social skills and confidence. At the beginning of her FOURTH week (two of which were training), R goes up to her and says something along the lines of “Are you comfortable pitching credit? Because if you’re not, I need to know so I can schedule other people.” Are you fucking shitting me? This poor HIGH SCHOOL girl is working so hard to improve her shyness and come out of her shell, and you threaten to cut her hours because she’s STILL practicing pitching credit with confidence? That’s NOT how you encourage your cashiers to perform.

And now the icing on the cake. That’s right, R LIED to me.

The other day, one of the registers started massively slowing down. So I turned it off and turned it back on. On the first or second transaction, it started slowing down again. So I got a hold of R. She told me to turn it off and then back on again. I told her I already did and it still did this. So she told me to close it down properly for the rest of the day. I did. My back was turned helping a member, and when I was done, the bad computer had been TURNED BACK ON!!!

My other co-worker, Ax, told me that she thought R did it, because she was sure that neither she nor A had. Because all four of us had been at the register area. So, I’m fuming, and I made a HUGE-ASS sign. The one you see above. Laughed my ass off. Customer accused me of having weed. All good fun.

I then got to talk to A again. She told me that she saw R turn the computer back on. So now I’m furious.

Finally, R sees the sign. She asked me, “Who did that?.”

“Me.”

“Why?”

“Because someone turned it back on.”

“Who?”

I’ll let that sink in.

WHO?

WHO!!???

YOU, YOU FUCKING CUNT!!! DON’T GO AROUND TRYING TO LIE TO ME!!!!

OK, so. I have gone to the store manager twice about her. She forces us to go on 15-minute breaks when she tells us to. She plays favorites. K and Q take, oh, hour long lunch breaks. Half-hour 15s. She doesn’t bat an eye. I take a 15 right after my lunch (which no one had ever, ever told me was not allowed), and she yells at me. And not for the real reason you’re not supposed to do that. Because “they have to go in order.” Whoever went to lunch first takes their 15 first. Which is total bs because no one else gives a single fuck who goes on their 15 when. And, no, it is not an actual rule. It’s a “her” rule.

K often takes her lunch last, but she is the first to leave for the day. An hour before everyone else. How fucked up is that? Just because she gets tons of credits and is spoiled as shit and always gets her way. Oh, let’s not forget she’s late almost every fucking morning. She just likes taking her lunch late.

The store manager just brushes all my complaints aside. The first time, he said he would talk to her. That was at least a month ago, if not longer. Nothing has changed.

Every single thing that I have been told is expected of me coming into her position at a different store, she does the complete opposite. God forbid she ever have to cover any of her cashiers for any sort of break, or check out any customers out unless she can tell just by looking at them that they’ll get credits. I swear to God. She takes most weekends off, when we need her the most. Most holidays, she’s off.

I have had enough. I am literally about to blow up at R almost every single day I see her. Which is why I’m about to lose my job pretty much every single day. The store manager is NO help.

So, what did I do? Why might I lose my job even on my day off?

🙂

I called my store manager’s boss.

He’s coming to the store next week.

I can’t fucking wait.

🙂

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Posted by on October 13, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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I Hope She’s Happy

Long story/rant ahead.

I’m 25 years old.

I had this best friend for 12+ years. Ever since seventh grade. We’ll call her K. She was in a car accident as a baby, so has a Traumatic Brain Injury (I’m gonna refer to it as TBI). Because of this, she’s not the brightest. Kinda really gullible. Apt to make bad choices and wrong decisions. People always teased her or hated her or both. So I’ve always been very protective of her. People would call her name in the hall and I would turn, wondering what the heck they wanted with my K. I’ve been by her side constantly. No matter what.

Her family’s kinda fucked up. Another reason I was always there for her. Her mother is batshit, and put my family through Hell. But I was still by K’s side.

When every single person in the world turned their backs on her, I was at her side.

I’m not saying I’m perfect. I’m not full of myself. But with my loyalty, I know that I am pretty fuckin’ awesome.

OK. So what am I going to rant about?

My boyfriend, LR, has very few friends around home. Literally, like, two. They’re a married couple, Sh (the woman) and D (the man). Soon after I met them, K was mentioned. K knows them because of the following situation: T went to high school with me and K. T is Sh’s brother. Obvs, D is T’s brother-in-law. So, K’s name was eventually brought up. Either Sh or LR or both told me at one point, “Oh, yeah, K, she tried to hook up with D once.” I was under the impression that K had tried to hook up with him while he was married. After the fiasco I’m going to tell you about, I learned that they were not married at the time. However, they were still a couple at the time.

Being the good, loyal friend I am, I thought I should tell K this awful rumor about her. At the same time, she was having a fight with this girl, C. I was mad at C, too, because I was reading the text messages between them and C was being ridiculous. K wanted to go to C’s house and yell at her. But I firmly said “no” many times. I told K to leave these things be.

Now, strike 1 for K. She then told me that she had screenshot a private convo between me and her and sent it to C, in which I called C a “stupid bitch.” As mad as I was at C, she was still my friend. Well, now C will never talk to me again. I was pretty pissed. But K coulda done worse. And, dear God, she certainly did.

That was when I told K about the rumor. She cried, blocked ppl on fb, etc. I was there to comfort her until she was sufficiently distracted. The next day, I’m at work, and LR texts me. “D just txted me, askin who started a rumor about he & K hookin up…?…” I rounded on K.

“Who did you tell about the rumor about you and D?”

She said she had called T. She wanted to get to the bottom of it and confront whoever had started it. I told her that she should have left it alone, that now she was starting drama, and now I was in trouble with LR’s only friends that matter. Oh, and, as I didn’t know until after the fiasco, she had called T IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! She went on about how she had to stand up for herself and she was sick of people starting rumors and calling her names. I remind her that she got me in trouble with LR’s friends. She completely disregarded me. That was when I learned that D forgave me and understood that it was just K starting drama. I told K that we were damn lucky that D forgave me.

Strike two for K. She then starts to wonder why I had to apologize. It obvs had nothing to do with the fact that I told her the thing that started her on her drama llama venture. (That was sarcasm). She suddenly asks me if I lied to her the day before and started the rumor myself. Something in her gut told her I did. First I said “No.” Then, as I was typing another reply, she says, “OK I believe you.” I send something like, “Why would I do that?” She goes, “It’s just that you never own up to your mistakes, R, and you have to start. See? You’re avoiding the question.”

I told her no, I already answered it.

She ends with “OK, I believe you.” I left it at that. To think that I, of all people, would ever do that to her.

The next morning (or maybe it was that night but I was asleep), completely unprompted, she sends an apology. She says she really felt like an asshole. I left it for a couple hours. Asked LR’s advice. He basically told me to just forget her. But it was a really heartfelt apology without any prompting. So I went for the bait.

But I reminded her that she had put me in trouble with LR’s friends. She tried to insist that she didn’t know his friends until I finally, thoroughly explained who they are. Then she rounds her attack.

Final strike for K. The mother of all betrayals. She says something like, “I heard from this person who heard from that person that four years ago at T’s party you talked shit about me.” I barely got to say that I don’t even remember those people before she blocked me, saying I only hang with her whenever it’s convenient for me. Obvs it has nothing to do with the fact that I have a full-time job, I volunteer many hours editing fanfiction, and would like to spend time with my boyfriend (LR) whenever I actually have the time to (that’s sarcasm).

After everything I’ve ever done and tried to do for her, she throws me away in a temper tantrum. The only real friend she ever had.

She’s going to come crawling back eventually. She always does. But I’m not going to let her back in. Ever. I’m not God, I’m not Jesus, I can’t forgive people who do something like that to me or people close to me. I’m done with K. For good. She done fucked up and lost her only real friend she ever had forever. The one with the loyalty like a dog.

I hope she’s fuckin’ happy.

 
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Posted by on August 2, 2015 in Uncategorized

 

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My Boyfriend’s Mother Hates Me

My boyfriend’s mother hates me. And we’ve only been dating less than three months. They had a fight this morning. She started going off about me. Probably about my weight. And how I’m probably encouraging him to gain weight. ‘Cause that’s what all fat people do, right?

I’m sorry if my weight offends you, Mrs. A, but it’s really none of your business. Neither is your 28-year-old son’s weight. At least, not when it’s just a little extra tummy weight.

I’ve struggled with food all my life. It’s not as easy-peasy for me as it was for you. Everyone’s different. Yes, my antidepressants have something to do with my problems. But y’know what? Without those, I’d have killed myself by now. By accident. I’d rather be fat than dead by my own hand. I dunno, those are my priorities. Maybe yours aren’t the same.

I’ve shown her nothing but respect, despite what I think of her. And I’ll continue to show her that. I’m writing this so that I don’t strangle her the next time I see her and she tries to start something. Which she probably will.

 
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Posted by on September 12, 2014 in Depression

 

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Power?

My counselor made an interesting point in our session today. Sometimes, when people are angry because they have no control over the situation, they go try to do something they do have control over. How does this translate to me? Let me elaborate.

I was in a situation with the assistant store manager where he pissed me off. What did I do about it? Absolutely nothing. Nada. Zilch. I didn’t do anything. How could I? He’s my boss. I had no control over the situation. Just let him make his snide comments and berate me. This happens all the time. I get angry at the higher-ups. But there’s absolutely nothing I can do about it. So what do I do to get control over a situation? I shop.

When I’m shopping, I’m using my money to buy my things. The customer is always right, so I have the power in a me-shopping situation.

I don’t wanna think about myself doing something as low as looking for power. But it could be true. I could be that low. I mean, I’m struggling so much with all the basic things. Basic emotions, basic chores. I still haven’t done my laundry, yet. I’m trying to talk into it right now. The stupid yawning isn’t helping.

Anyway. I realize there are lots of times I imagine having the power when I feel like I never will. And I never do. I always cave in and let the other person take over. It’s just easier. I hate confrontation. Usually because I think too slowly to take control of the situation. But as a shopper, it doesn’t matter how long it takes me to think. I’m still the boss.

So it can’t just be that shopping makes me happy. Because lots of times it doesn’t make me happy immediately. I’m often upset at spending the money that I don’t have. I’m not happy until later when there’s nothing more I can really do about it, anyway. There has to be more to it.

My counselor told me to let my anger out creatively. See, you might not believe it knowing me, but I have a lot of anger. I never show it. I was taught that it was wrong to do so. I was shamed for doing it. So my counselor told me to let it out in a short story. A story where the character representing me takes control of the situation. Kicks the other person’s ass. Stuff like that. Sounds good to me.

How do you let out your anger? Were you ever told that it’s wrong to let it out? Were you ever shamed for doing so?

 
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Posted by on February 10, 2014 in Uncategorized

 

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Anxiety and Anger

There have been some new developments in my depression since my last post. Oh, and yes, I gave up on the A-Z blogging. Sorry about that :(.
Anyway. There have been new developments. I don’t remember if I wrote anything about what I’m going to talk about, so I’ll just start from the beginning, anyway.  I do remember mentioning that increased anxiety has come with my depression. Well, it’s getting worse.
One day, something happened and I got very, very anxious at work. I couldn’t have a breakdown at work! I’d be sent home! Previously, my co-worker had told me she gets anxiety attacks and carries Xanax with her. She had offered it to me. So, that first day that I got anxious (not angry) at work, I went up to her and asked if I could have some. I know, I know. Naughty Lacey! I’m a very naughty girl XP. Anyway, it worked a little. I managed to calm a bit.
Maybe a week or so later, something triggered my temper. I was getting angrier and angrier. At customers! It was ridiculous. I needed to chill out before I burst into tears at work again. And what does Xanax do? That’s right! Chills you out! So I went back to my co-worker, who almost-reluctantly gave me a full pill. Again, it only worked a little. But it was enough to keep me mostly sensible for the rest of the day.
I decided then that I wanted Xanax. With my anxiety and anger, I needed help to control myself. So on my next visit to the doctor, I reluctantly told him about my illegal use of Xanax. He actually wasn’t angry. He said “OK,” and I got myself some anxiety pills. For five bucks! That’s less than my antidepressants! It’s very exciting.
I’m using the Xanax a lot more often, now. I don’t believe I’m getting addicted, though. It’s not like I need it every day or anything. Rather, I only take it when there’s been a trigger or potential trigger for anger or anxiety. Then again, these triggers are happening more often, now, too. But I still think I’m going to be OK.
These triggers can be anything. It’s impossible to tell what I will and won’t be able to handle. For example, a while ago my friend and neighbor asked me to watch her pets while she and her family were out of town. One of the pets was her kitten that was kept in her (big) cage while I wasn’t there. I thought I had done a pretty decent job. Cleaned the litter box every day, fed her, watered her, etc. She always made such a mess with the litter, but I didn’t think it would harm her. Just as long as I cleaned it out of the food and water when I got there. Well, my friend was quite surprised when she got home. The cat’s cage was filthy. There was poop and pee outside the litter box that I had not seen. Basically, I had done a horrible, horrible job.
My friend tried to emphasize, though, that I had loved, fed, and watered her very well. That of the top three issues (love, food/water, cleanliness), I had well accomplished two. She was still grateful, and told me she was more concerned about the cat I want to have in the future. I apologized profusely and went on with my day. I had errands to run.
I told myself it wasn’t that big a deal. I tried to shrug it off. The cat was safe, healthy, and I had still done an OK job. But for some reason, it kept bugging me. It bugged and bugged and bugged. Even the new dress I got that day didn’t stop the bugging. It got to the point where I was in the car and I decided I was not at all fit to drive. I took two Xanax.
I did just fine after that. Changed into my new dress, rushed off to work, etc. But then, several hours into my shift, it started bugging me again. I felt like I was going to cry. I took more Xanax and told the HR rep that I was feeling emotionally unstable. Unlike the last time I was emotionally unstable, though, she promised not to send me home! Instead, she said they would let me go to the bathroom and cry until I felt better if I needed to. That helped me feel better, too.
By the end of the night, I was feeling just fine and closed up the registers with a smile. Xanax is amazing.
But no, I promise I’m not using it to solve all my problems. One day, they were giving me grief at work about this and that, and I was unhappy where they had placed me for days on end. Then it was how those two issues connected. Where they place you greatly affects the stuff they give you grief about. And they were placing me at the register where it was near impossible to improve and get them off my back. All this was starting to make me very angry. But I didn’t take my Xanax yet. Instead, I shared my frustrations with another co-worker. She told me to tell my boss, and though I didn’t want to, I finally gave in and took her advice. Nothing was going to happen if I kept quiet, right?
I told my boss my frustrations. She talked to her boss. They gave some lame-ass excuse, but I started to feel a little better. I didn’t take any Xanax.
Later that day, I was still a little worked up. So little things were getting me off. It got to the point where I felt like I was going to cry, so I went back to my boss. This time, I didn’t let her go to her boss. I didn’t want to be a problem. But after I got it all out, y’know what happened? I felt 100% better for the rest of the day!
I think most of the problem with my anger is my inability to let it out. My parents tell me that I should never let work think things aren’t going well. That I’m unhappy. I have to smile and be cheerful and acting like I love my job all the time. But I just can’t do that. I’ve always worn my heart on my sleeve, and I simply can’t keep my emotions in. Otherwise, bad things happen. Like my anger building up from little things and unable to come out, so I burst into tears. I have to let it out.
TL;DR: I was naughty and used Xanax illegally, acquired it legally, and it’s made my life better, though I promise I’m not getting addicted. Also, I wear my heart on my sleeve and if I’m not allowed to, bad stuff happens.

 
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Posted by on June 21, 2013 in Depression

 

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I for Irritability

I started getting irritable the week before my period a few months ago. I got really, really angry. But I could not blow up. That’s the thing about me. I cannot blow up. I simply can’t. And that night I simply couldn’t blow up at my friend. It got to the point where I exploded in tears. I was uncontrollable.

It happened again the next month, at work. I was sent home to a family that didn’t want to understand the fact that I had no control.

I was diagnosed with PMD. I was told to double my meds the week before my period. But I’ve noticed that lately my temper is still getting the better of me. I’m becoming a little more animated behind the backs of rude customers. I’m abusing the registers when they’re low. I don’t know, I’m getting concerned. Hopefully my therapist can figure this out :/.

 
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Posted by on April 11, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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