Desi83's Blog

May 21, 2012

Throw me off this cliff or fly me away

Filed under: Uncategorized — desi83 @ 11:00 pm

Sometimes the intensity and uncertainty of a situation gives me that flight or fight response, but I just stay still and endure the chaos that is plaguing my mind. I want to run away to a place away from all of the bad choices that I have led me to where I am today. If I cannot do that, then I want to find the highest cliff on the most beautiful beach in the world, and I want dive off of it to experience a beautiful escape. Common sense and that tiny glimmer of hope that something incredible might happen here that I’d miss is what stops me from “flying” from my situation. Then, I just think that it is time to take control of the situation and fight for what I want.

Yet, I sometimes feel that I cannot find what I want. I know in my mind what I want, but finding it is the problem. I want to be so deeply in love with someone that I forget what is around me. I want to take my passions and forge them together to do something productive that earns money. I want to be in love with my career instead of miserable from it. I want someone who excites me but also reassures me that it’s not going to end tomorrow. Yes, I want some guarantees in my life because disappointment is something that I can no longer withstand. Sometimes I want to hide from the world and not try any more. I can sustain myself with my hobbies and be content alone and get through my work week. Yet, this hole in my heart will widen more and more if I try to be content without passion or love in my life. It’s a catch 22 right now. If I do take chances in love and in my career, then I may fall on my face again, and I don’t know how much more of that my heart can handle. Yet, if I don’t put myself out there, eventually this hole is going to take over my heart and leave me dead inside.

A kiss that lingers on my lips and in my mind days after it has happened is not something that I want to live without. A day of inspiring greatness in people on my job is something that I know that I need in my life. Yet, how many disappointments does one have to endure before it becomes not worth it any more? Do I die trying or stick my head in the sand until it is over? I look back in my innocent years, and I crave that hope and wonder that we lose over years of setbacks and disappointments. How do you stop yourself from being too jaded to explore the possibilities any more? Or more importantly, how do you get out of being jaded and let yourself be innocent again?

May 2, 2012

Horror Story Continued…

Filed under: horror,story — desi83 @ 8:11 am

Note: Please read the previous entry, Horror Story Parts 1 and 2, before continuing.

I laid there for a moment, trying to bring myself back to reality. I didn’t feel like I was in my apartment on my couch; I felt like I was at the store hiding from those eyes. Milly was now sitting on the floor staring up at me with those eternally sad eyes. “Okay, I am at home on my couch, and no one is here besides my dogs. I am okay, and the ghost eyes are not real,” I said to myself. I had to laugh. Was I really scared of the store being haunted? “Ms. Lisa, bad things have happened to people who’ve worked third shift at the Greenville store. There are legends, you know,” Ms. Addy had warned me. Those words were burned into my memory, and no matter how cynical I was, I was going to go into work with that fear looming over me. I couldn’t let the fear consume me. So, I got up and put on some pink running shorts, a white tank top with a sports bra underneath, my moisture-wicking running socks, and my New Balance running shoes, and I headed out the door with Milo’s leash in my hand. He was a great running partner because he constantly pulled me further so that I had to run faster to catch up. For all the time I waste and bad habits that I indulge, running is the one thing that makes me feel like I have a purpose. Every time I run, I go as fast and as distant as my body will carry me. It is a never-ending journey for me, because I will always push myself harder and further on every run. I also feel closer to Milo on our runs, because I think he has the same mentality. We ran through the parking lot, around the track that surrounds the pond at my apartment complex, and onto the sidewalk that parallels the main street going by my apartment complex. I was hoping to hit five miles today with an increased time of 5.5 minutes per mile as compared to 6 minutes on our previous run. Milo was definitely up for the challenge.

As I ran, I began to wonder if my life was ever going to mean more. If so, when? What would it take? I couldn’t be a retail manager forever, and I couldn’t stay in a dead-end relationship for the rest of my life. I wanted to do something that was meaningful. I thought of Greg, who worked as a gas station attendant with a Bachelor’s degree in Biology. He didn’t have a clue what he wanted to do with his degree. Most of his ideas required him to get a higher degree, and his gas station salary was not going to pay for his tuition. His parents had paid for his college tuition the first time around, but they had recently cut him off since he has been coasting on his tiny salary and their allowances that they still gave him as an adult. He had to move in with his sister, who is not exactly fond of me for whatever reason. I wondered if Greg was ever going to wake up and take action to have what he wants for his life. I thought of Brad, my hot neighbor with the glittering smile, who sold cars every day with that same smile. I wondered if that was the extent of his aspirations, or if he dreamed of something bigger. What force would it take to shoot us out of our comfort zone and into the sky? Or was this the eternal plan for people like me, to wander aimlessly through life in precarious situations until we get crushed by a compactor or fall off a ladder doing some mundane task for a check that barely covers the monthly bills? I figured the first step was to ask that very question.

I looked down at my watch, and I noticed that we only had one mile to go. I was soaked in sweat, and I felt like throwing up my breakfast, but my legs felt like lightning. We were running on the sidewalk by the road where my apartment was located, when I noticed a cluster of people and dogs up ahead. Milo was usually pretty good about running beside me, but it was too distracting for him with so many dogs in his view. I was trying to steer us to the left, while he was pulling with all of his might to the right towards the group of dogs and people. I jerked him as hard as I could toward me as we passed them, and I suddenly lost my balance. As I fell, I felt this horrible fear at my loss of control go through my body, and I landed on my hands and knees. I felt a shooting pain as my body hit the concrete. I could feel the skin ripping off my knees on impact. “Milo!” I screamed. The people stopped and turned, and their dogs were pulling on their leashes and barking for their freedom. Milo came to me and licked the top of my right hand. All but one of the people who had caused this accident kept walking in order to control their dogs. “Hey, are you okay?” asked the concerned young man. He looked about nineteen years old, and he had a friendly face. His deep brown eyes stared down at me as I turned over onto my bottom and sat for a moment, trying to recover. Milo was sniffing me and pacing. My new hero reached a hand down to me. “Thanks,” I said as I took his hand and rose to my feet. “Can you walk?” he asked softly. I slowly took a step as I held his hand. “I think I’ll be alright. I live in that apartment complex,” I said as I pointed in the direction ahead of us. “Okay, well let me take your dog’s leash, and I’ll walk you to your apartment,” he offered. I was not going to argue, because the shooting pain in my bloody knees was making it almost impossible to walk.

I wondered how old this guy really was and if he was in school. I wondered who is friends were and if any of those dogs in their group belonged to him. I was too tired and in pain to ask these questions. “I’m sorry about what happened. I feel like it was partly our fault that you fell,” he apologized. I smiled. ‘Yah think?’ I thought to myself. “It’s fine. I usually-I usually have better control with Milo…but he just couldn’t contain himself…when he saw those dogs with-with you and your friends,” I said between breaths. “I can imagine. The girl is my sister, the guy that was in the green shirt is my sister’s boyfriend, and the guy wearing the blue and white striped shirt is my room-mate. The two German Shepherds belong to my sister, and the mutt belongs to my room-mate. So, as you can see, I was just tagging along. I don’t have any dogs because they’re too much trouble,” he explained. “Interesting. So, how are dogs too much trouble? If I can handle them, then surely you can,” I responded condescendingly. “I would not be able to devote enough time to a dog with my schedule,” he replied. “Okay, I’ll bite, what is it that you do?” I asked. I squeezed my eyes shut as I felt the pain in my knees stabbing me suddenly. “I am working on earning my Master’s Degree in Psychology. So, when I’m not at school, I am either writing papers at home or doing field work. I am always busy, but it will be worth it after I get that degree and get into a position where I can really help people-and get paid for it,” he said with a smile. Oh, he had that salesman smile like Brad. We approached my apartment, and I looked up at the stairs in disgust. Why did I get a second story apartment? “That’s my apartment-up there,” I pointed. He looked at me with a pouty face. “You can let Milo go. He will know to run up the stairs and wait,” I advised. He complied, and I grabbed his hand so that he could slowly guide me up the stairs. Each step was more excruciating than the next. Blood was dripping from both of my knees. We finally reached the top, and I pulled the house key from my shoe and walked into my apartment with my handsome hero following me inside.

I plopped on the couch and propped my leg onto the coffee table. The helpful stranger went into the bathroom and began gathering supplies to play nurse for me. He emerged holding a wet cloth, some ointment, bandages, and rubbing alcohol. “How did you know where my bathroom was and where all of those items were?” I asked suspiciously. “My apartment has the same layout with the same medicine cabinet as yours,” he explained as he pressed the cloth against my knee. I gasped from the pain. “What is your name?” I manged to utter. “I’m Seth. I live in building C, so we’re not far from each other,” he replied as he poured the alcohol onto the cloth. “This is going to burn like hell,” he warned. “I don’t think that is really neces-Ah! Oh my God, why?” I attempted to speak but was interrupted by the burning of rubbing alcohol forced upon me. “Ow! Ow, oh my God, this is fuck!” I shouted. Seth laughed quietly. “Thanks for the warning, man,” I said angrily. “I did warn you,” he retorted. I rolled my eyes and threw my head back as the pain throbbed in my knees. “I am surprised that we’ve never bumped into each other until today,” I suddenly realized. “Like I said, I’m overwhelmingly busy with school. I am glad that I met you today, though,” he said as he rubbed the ointment on my wounds. “I am definitely glad, or else I may have been limping back home by myself,” I replied, smiling at my newfound hero. He gently placed the bandage on my right leg. “So, how far did you run before you fell?” Seth asked, trying to distract me from the pain. “I ran a little over four miles. I was averaging 5.6 minutes per mile, which was almost to my goal time,” I answered. He placed the bandage on my left knee. “What was your goal time?” he asked, looking down at my knee. “It was supposed to be 5.5 minutes per mile, and I was intending on going for 5 miles,” I explained. “That is extremely impressive. I haven’t ran a mile since high school,” he laughed. “Well, you are all patched up,” he said happily. “Thank you so much, Seth. I’m Lisa, by the way,” I said with a smile. “Well, it was a pleasure to meet you today, Lisa. I’m just sorry that it had to be under unpleasant circumstances,” he replied in his charming voice. The pain in my hands suddenly reminded me that I had also hurt my palms in the fall. I looked down at them and saw some blood. “Could you hand me that cloth again, or I guess rinse it off first? My hands got a little beat up as well,” I asked. “Sure, no problem,” Seth replied as he picked up the cloth and headed to my bathroom with it.

I leaned back on the couch, feeling a bit angry with myself for letting this happen. It would be awhile before I could run again. Before Seth returned to my living room, there was a knock at my door. “Do you want me to answer that so you don’t have to get up?” Seth asked. “That would be great, thanks,” I replied. I had no idea who could be knocking on my door. Seth opened the door, and I knew exactly who my visitor was. “Hey, I’m here to see my girlfriend. Who are you?” Greg asked with a slightly angry tone. ‘Shit,’ I thought as I rolled my eyes. Greg was the last person that I wanted to see right now, and I didn’t want Seth to know about him. I felt my hatred for Greg grow even stronger in that moment.

“It’s okay, Greg. He’s my neighbor. He helped me get back home after I fell,” I shouted to him from the couch. Greg stormed into the apartment and knelt down beside me. I didn’t move from where I was. “Honey, are you okay? What happened? Why didn’t you call me?” he asked, agitated. Seth stood in the kitchen with an awkward look on his face, trying to divert his eyes from us. “It just happened, and Seth was on the trail. So, he helped me get home and bandaged my knee,” I explained. “Thanks, man,” Greg said, hinting to Seth to go home. “No, problem. Well, I’ll see you around, Lisa,” Seth said as he headed out the door with a smirk on his face. I wanted to break up with Greg right then. I couldn’t, however; it was bad timing. It always seemed like bad timing, though. I just knew that he would cry and beg me to stay with him if I told him that I didn’t want to be with him any longer. “Do you need anything, babe? Do you want to put ice on your knees? I’ll go get some,” he insisted. “No! No, thank you, but I’m fine. I just need to rest,” I said, annoyed. “I can stay if you want,” he said quietly. “I need to rest, Greg,” I responded with my eyes shut. “How did you fall?” he asked, stalling. “I was running with Milo. We almost made my goal of five miles, but I tripped and fell when we were trying to go around some people and their dogs. Seth was one of the people in that group, so he stayed behind to help me,” I explained. “I always told you that it seemed dangerous for you to run with Milo. I can run with you, and I can take Milo’s leash,” he replied excitedly. “I fell one time, and it was my fault. I should have walked around that group instead of trying to run around them. I’ll know next time,” I replied, staring at the ceiling.

Greg turned on the television and continued to sit in the floor while I stayed sprawled over the couch. I wanted him to leave, but I didn’t feel like using my energy. I knew he’d want to know why, and he’d have that hurt look on his face. I just couldn’t deal with that right now. So, I just tried to relax. I wanted so badly to smoke, but I knew that he would not like it. Greg was more of a straight-laced kind of guy. He knew that I had my habits, and he didn’t try to lecture me about it, but he would give me a disapproving look if I engaged in any said habits. I smoke pot and occasionally have fun with mushrooms, I drink a lot of whiskey, and I have a temper. Having a temper isn’t exactly a habit like the others, but it is a tendency that I can’t always control. It makes Greg very uncomfortable because he does not like confrontation. Sometimes I just want to argue or debate for the fun of it, but he just shuts down. He’s like a puppy-innocent, sad-eyed, and always wanting attention. How can I chase away a puppy? I don’t, however, I want to have a romantic relationship with a puppy. If I cheat on him, he’d break up with me and not beg me to stay with him. That is one of his deal-breakers. Maybe I could just lie and say that I cheated on him? I could tell him that Seth and I were having rough, passionate sex, and that is how I hurt my knees. Ah, but then he’d feel the need to get revenge on Seth. Then, Seth would think that I was a psycho for getting him involved in my drama, because he barely knows me. I don’t want to ruin his opinion of me. There is another way to get out of this without a terrible confrontation, I just know it. Yes, I know, I said that Greg was the one that avoids confrontation. Well, I like to avoid the kind of confrontation where someone cries. “Greg, can you get me a glass of whiskey, please? On ice?” I asked nicely. I figured I’d use him while he was there. “Sure, babe, no problem,” he said as he quickly jumped up to serve me. Why did this irritate me?

I asked Greg to warm up some left-overs for me before I sent him on his way. I told him that I was tired and in pain, and I wanted to go to sleep. He kissed me passionately, and I tried to pull back because it always seems like he’s trying to eat my face. We don’t need to devour each other with every kiss. “I’ll call you later, Lisa. I love you,” he said sweetly. “I love you, too,” I lied. I did love you, I thought I loved you, is what I wanted to say. He left, and I sighed out of relief. Milo, who had been sitting in the recliner ever since we returned home, was staring at me with sad, apologetic eyes. “It’s okay, Milo, it’s not your fault,” I said looking directly into his eyes. He picked up his head and smiled at me the way only a dog can smile-tongue hanging out, mouth wide, and eyes squinting. Milly was curled up in a ball beside my feet on the couch. She rarely ever moved from that spot on the couch, so she was always a perfect and ready foot warmer. I sat up and squeezed my eyes shut from the pain. I reached under the couch for my wooden box of happiness without moving my legs too much. I pulled out my little baggie of green, and I stuffed it into my Ed Hardy pipe. I just wanted to sleep and stop thinking. I was so tired of thinking all of the time.

To Be Continued…

April 9, 2012

My First Horror Story-Part 1 and 2

Filed under: horror,story — desi83 @ 11:13 pm

*I posted the first part of the story here a month ago, but I just put the whole story on here as it is written so far. If you’ve already read part one, skip to part 2*

-Part 1-

“Lisa, could you come in here for a moment, please?” my boss said from his office. I could see Rob sitting down in the chair in the office. Mike always had a witness with him when he called someone into the office to be disciplined, or if he was going to give said person some bad news. Either way, dread spread through my body. My head tingled, and I felt my feet become heavy as I made my way to the office. “Yes sir?” I said timidly. “Have a seat, Lisa. I have some news for you,” Mike announced calmly. He had this calm, confident demeanor about him through all situations. I have seen this man deal with the worst of humankind, and nothing ever seems to crack him. “Alright, you are either going to hate me or love me for this,” he proceeded. I closed my eyes. “Okay,” I said awkwardly. Damn it, why can’t I be as cool as him in these situations? I am such a scared little person. “Well, I heard that you were interested in third shift from a ‘little bird’ here, so I emailed Mr. Davis. You are being transferred to Greenville,” he announced. Rob winked at me. I sighed deeply. “I was actually going to ask you about the possibility of doing that today, sir, so you beat me to the punch,” I said happily. I felt my body relax. I had been wanting the graveyard shift for awhile. “Greenville is a good place to work third shift. There is virtually no crime there, it is a quiet town, and it is not far from where you live. You will probably save about 20 bucks a week on gas as to compared to driving to this store. Also, you can go back to school or whatever you want to do since it’ll be seven days on and seven days off. You’ll just have to lose sleep during your weeks on if you want to do anything,” he reassured me.

“When do I start?” I asked. “You need to be there tomorrow morning at 7 am for a store meeting, and then you will start on Tuesday night,” he replied with a smile. “But I’m working until eleven tonight,” I replied, annoyed. “It would be preferable for you to make it to the meeting,” he said sternly. “Fine, yes, you are right,” I responded. “Okay, well, since it is your last day at this store, why don’t we play some stockroom basketball for old time’s sake?” he asked jubilantly. “Okay,” I said with a chuckle. “What are the stakes?” Rob asked. “Okay, Lisa. If you lose, you have to clean my office top to bottom,” he answered. “What if I win?” I asked smiling slyly. “If you win, you can leave a half an hour early. But if you lose, you have to spend that last half hour cleaning the office. How does that sound?” he asked. “Well, so far, sir, you are undefeated, but I will take that challenge,” I said confidently.

Rob, Mike, and I walked into the stockroom to play basketball with giant beach balls and two huge cardboard boxes.

“Okay, Lisa, I’m going to put this box inside of this bigger box. It’s two points for the outside box, three points for the inside box. Actually, that is the point system for you. For me, it is one point for the outside box, and two points for the inside box. That way you have a little advantage since you’re playing the reigning champion,” he said graciously. “Okay, as long as you aren’t doing it because I’m a girl,” I said defensively. “No, he gave me the same advantage,” Rob said, “and he still won.” “Okay, Lisa, stand behind this piece of tape and toss the ball in,” Mike suggested. “Okay, here goes nothing,” I said as I bent my knees and hurdled the ball toward the boxes. It went right over them. “Oh, wow, too much power behind that shot,” Rob said laughing. “I’m just warming up,” I said confidently. “Hey now, what is going on in here?” Melinda asked as she walked in the stockroom with her cart full of fixtures from the reset she was doing. “I’m out here working my ass off, and this is what the bosses are doing?” she scoffed. “It’s Lisa’s last day here, so we’re giving her a little goodbye party,” Mike said as he approached the little strip of tape on the floor. “Oh, wow, she’s leaving?” she asked. “Yes, I’m moving to Greenville to work third shift,” I replied. “Mmph,” she said as she went about her work. We didn’t get along most of time.

She tended to make snide remarks to me hinting of her jealousy, and I got onto her quite often for slacking off. Sometimes I hated being a manager because I often thought it would be so much easier only be responsible for my work instead of everyone else’s.

“Oh, two points!” Mike shouted when he made the inside box. “2-0, you’re up!” Rob shouted. “You guys didn’t tell me there was a game going on!” Chris said as he entered our makeshift basketball court. “It’s Lisa’s last day, so we had to have one last game with her,” Mike replied. “Yes, I’ve already beaten you this week, Chris, so now I have to beat Mike,” I said teasing him. “When did you beat me?” he asked. “We played a little paper wad basketball at the register the other day, and I beat you,” I reminded him. “Oh, that so does not count,” he said laughing. I made my way to the strip of tape, and I softly threw the ball this time as throwing it hard did not work last time. It barely touched the edge of the outside box and rolled back to me. “Oh, this is going to be really bad,” I lamented. We made a few more shots, and Mike was ahead 8-0. “Okay, this is the last shot. If I make it to 10 points, you’ll be cleaning my office,” he gloated. “It’s not over yet, Mike,” I said with an evil smile. I was up, and I bent my knees, focused on the inside box, and tossed the ball. It flew over both boxes. “Rob, go grab that ball for me, will you?” Mike said. Rob obediently ran to fetch the ball for him. Rob was his lackey, or so I called him. He wanted a promotion so badly, so he did whatever Mike told him to. “Okay, Lisa, here goes nothing,” Mike said as he smoothly tossed the ball directly into the 2-point box. “I can’t wait to see my clean office tomorrow!” he said triumphantly. “Okay, Rob, let’s play to 10 points to see who is going to buy Lisa’s goodbye cake,” he suggested. “Hmmm, can it be any cake? I can buy her a Hostess cake off the shelf then?” Rob said with a smirk. Rob was glad to be rid of me. I was out-performing him even though he was technically above me, so with me gone, it would make him look better. “No, Rob, it will be a cake of her choice from Publix,” Mike corrected him. “Alright, I’m bringing my A game today,” he said as he stepped to the line of tape. “So, you are really leaving us?” Chris asked me. “Yes, apparently a ‘little bird’ told Mike that I wanted to be transferred. I was kind of caught off guard since I was planning on approaching Mike about it. Even though it is what I wanted, I’m kind of pissed that they beat me to the punch,” I replied. “Man, that is crazy. We’re going to miss you here, Lisa. But I’m glad it’s working out for you,” he said while pulling stock from the shelves and loading it on his cart. “I’m going to miss you too, Chris,” I said. We stood looking at each other for a moment. “Well, keep in touch, alright?” he said diverting his eyes from me. “We always have Facebook,” I said with a laugh. “Oh yes, there is that,” he said smiling. “Oh, looks like Rob is buying your cake, Lisa!” Mike said, gloating. “Well, Rob, I would like a red velvet cake, please,” I said slyly. “No problem, your highness,” he replied. “Alright, guys get back to work, enough funny business,” Mike shouted. “Yeah, okay,” I said giggling. “Hey Lisa, wait up,” Mike said. “Okay, just because this is your last day, it doesn’t mean it is time to slack off. This is the day to give me your best work because you always want to leave a great impression every time that you leave a place,” he advised. “I know that, Mike. I always work hard for you,” I said, slightly offended. “Okay, well, it really has been a pleasure working with you, Lisa. I know at that store you’ll be like a comet shooting through the night, changing the way they do things. Their last couple of third shift managers didn’t make much of an impression, so they’ll be glad to have someone who works hard,” Mike said. I smiled, and went on working on the project that I’d left earlier.

I’ve been at Jones’ Drug for five years, and all along I have been trying to find a way out. I went to college and majored in English, but had no idea what to do with my degree after I graduated. Third shift was hopefully going to be my way out of retail since I’d have time to go back to school. My life so far has been pretty dull. I’ve worked as an assistant manager giving orders to employees who don’t want to be there and calming down customers who take their frustrations out on those reluctant employees. I put out stock, reset departments, put together displays to try to spotlight whatever products that corporate wants us to spotlight, and I make sure all the cash is accounted for. It has become pretty redundant over the years. Promotions are getting fewer with the failing economy, and the few who do get promoted are seeing less bonuses than their predecessors and have worked twice as many hours to make up for the hours cut from the employees and hourly managers. I am an hourly manager, and I am fine to stay that way until I find a new line of work. I have done all I can in this career, and I am ready to move on. I just have to figure out what I am going to move on to do. I have always wanted to be a writer in some capacity. I just need to align my career desires with actual career possibilities. Journalism is a dying art because of the technology revolution. Being a paid author is about as likely as winning the lottery. I do not want to teach. I tried teaching middle school for a year, and I ended up on anxiety medication before that year was up. Showing up to work doped up on Xanax was not exactly a way to be a good role model. So, I was going to research a few careers during the next few months, and I was going to go back to school in the fall. It seemed like the perfect situation at the time. Greenville, I knew, was where I needed to be. I cleaned the office that night top to bottom, just as I had promised. The fumes from the Spit Fire spray gave me a headache and a bit of dizziness.

Joe walked into the office and gave me a questioning look when he spotted me scrubbing the office floor. “I lost a bet, Joe,” I said smiling. He laughed. “Hey, did you happen to tell Mike that I wanted third shift?” I asked. I didn’t know who else could have told him. “No, I didn’t tell anyone. I figured you’d talk to him if you wanted to take the job,” he replied. “Hmm, I bet it was that rat bastard, Rob,” I said grumbling. “Ah, you told Rob, huh?” he said with a smirk. “I got mad at him one day, and I said something like, ‘I just need to go on third shift so I don’t have to deal with any of this bullshit’, and I guess he mentioned it to Mike,” I realized. “So, you’re getting transferred then? That’s great, right?” Joe asked. Joe was one of the third shift managers at that store, and we had many conversations about our hopes and dreams during that overlap between our shifts. He had already told me about the Greenville opening a few weeks ago. “Yes, but I wanted to ask for the transfer. Instead, Mike apparently heard from a ‘little bird’ that I wanted third shift, so he processed the transfer before I talked to him about it,” I complained. “Oh, yeah, I can see how that would throw you off guard. Well, are you happy about going third shift in Greenville, though?” he asked. “Yes, I am happy to move on to something a little different. I may go back to school if I can figure out what I want to do,” I replied. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for, Lisa,” he said. “I do too,” I replied wistfully. “Well, Lisa, it has been wonderful working with you, and I will give you a call sometime at your new store to see how you are doing,” Joe promised. “Thanks, Joe. There is cake in the break room if you want some. I think I have had enough. Oh, and Rob had to buy it for me since he lost a game to Mike,” I informed him. He laughed and shook his head. “Hopefully, both of us will be out of here one day, Lisa, and we can both realize our dreams,” Joe wished. “Hopefully,” I agreed.

Ms. Addy walked into the office to clock out, and I knew this was going to be a difficult good-bye. Ms. Addy doesn’t like most people, especially managers. In turn, most managers do not like Ms. Addy. She is irritable, bitter, and she can’t do much physical work because, well, she is old. When I first came to work for this Jones Drug location, I did not care for her upon our first meeting. Yet, she grew on me…like a fungus, but still. I learned how to deal with Mrs. Addy, and I learned how to make her smile. She loves to persuade customers to buy the beauty products that we promote, and she loves to see the results. Every day that I have worked for her, she has called me over to see the sales results in the beauty department. If she has worked the day before and done well, she likes to show me so that I’ll praise her. If someone else worked the day before and did badly, she likes for me to see how much the department truly needs her. I also know how to stand up to her when she is being unreasonable without being mean to her about it. I was going to miss Ms. Addy more than I was going to miss anyone else there. We had a special bond, especially as fellow English majors. I still wished I could see her articles that she wrote for newspapers a few decades ago. Over time, I found her to be quite an abysmal woman, and I wondered what wisdom was behind those eyes.  “Well, Ms. Lisa, I guess this is good-bye,” Ms. Addy said sadly. “Yes, it looks like it, Ms. Addy. Now you be nice to the new guy,” I said sternly but affectionately. “I already don’t like him. How is having another male manager going to help me in cosmetics? They don’t know anything about cosmetics, so they don’t care,” she said grumpily. “That is true, but I hear he is a very nice man,” I reassured her. “Well, I don’t like him, and he better not march in here telling me what to do,” she scoffed. I laughed. “I know you’ll give him hell, and he’ll have to either figure out how to deal with you or leave,” I said smiling. She grabbed me for a hug.

“Ms. Lisa, bad things have happened to people who’ve worked third shift at the Greenville store. There are legends, you know,” Ms. Addy warned. Joe was sitting behind us in the office, chuckling to himself. “It is true! I’m sure you’ve heard the stories, Joe. Ten years ago, there was a manager working in the stock room. She was by herself while her cashier was up front to ring up customers, if any straggled in at three in the morning. She was on a ladder getting down some stock for them to put out. She fell off that ladder and broke several bones in her body. She laid there all night bleeding inside and out with no one there to find her and help her. They say she screamed for hours, and no one heard her through that heavy door. Her cashier never checked on her because he was too busy playing his Gameboy to think about what she might be doing. The opening manager found her there, but it was too late,” Ms. Addy said darkly. Joe laughed again, “it was an accident. People fall off ladders, especially the old rickety ones we have at our stores.” I still felt chills run up my spine. “Okay, did you know about the cardboard compactor incident that happened fifteen years ago?” she asked. “No, I have not heard of that,” Joe replied cynically. “Okay, there was a man named Stephan who worked as the night shift manager in Greenville at the time. He was in the stockroom throwing away several boxes from where he had put up the product from the warehouse that night. He jabbed as many in as he could until there was no room left before he turned on the compactor.

He stood there waiting until it made a hideous noise and smoke came seeping out of it. He opened the door and crawled inside to shove the cardboard down into the compactor. Somehow, he fell inside of it and the door slammed shut. He screamed for help, but it was futile. There is no way his cashier could hear him through that door with his being all the way up front. A couple of hours passed, and the cashier started to wonder what his manager was doing. He walked into the stockroom and yelled for him. He didn’t hear or see his manager, so he went back to the front assuming he was in the office. Seven am rolled around, and the store manager arrived. Then, the potato chip vendor arrived. Mrs. Lemon, the store manager, did not have time to try to find Stephan because she had to check in the vendor. After the vendor had been checked in and put out his stock, he went to the stockroom to throw away his empty cardboard boxes. He opened the compactor, threw in the boxes, and turned on the motor. He still has nightmares about the shrill screams that he heard coming from the compactor. Smoke filled the air, and the sound of bones crushing could be heard from within the machine. He had walked away as soon as he turned on the motor, but he quickly ran back to the compactor and turned it off when he heard those blood-curdling screams. It was so dark inside of the machine that he couldn’t figure out what had made the noise. Also, smoke was rolling out of the opening. He immediately rushed to the store manager to tell her what happened. She bravely climbed into it with a flashlight with the vendor standing by. The vendor later said that her screams were almost as traumatizing to him than the ones that came from the compactor,” Ms. Addy animately narrated. “How do you know all of this, Mrs. Addy?” I asked. “I read the story in the local paper. They had video footage from the stockroom as well as the witness accounts. You know, I wrote a story about an incident that happened there thirty years ago, but it was the cashier who was killed,” she explained. “You know, Ms. Addy, I think that is all that I can stand to hear right now. I will be very careful there, I promise,” I said, cringing. “Try not to be by yourself too much. Make your cashier help you and be near you as much as possible. It only happens to people who find themselves alone a lot there,” she warned. “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Addy. I’m going to miss you,” I said smiling warmly at her. “Well, give us a call here sometime, or stop in and visit,” she suggested. “I will,” I agreed. With that, I went home filled with excitement, and well, a new fear about this new position.

-Part Two-

As I pulled into my apartment, my phone rang, and it was Greg. I hit “Quiet” and it continued to blink showing his name over and over again. A few seconds later, my voicemail chime sounded. My heart hurt, and my stomach began to churn. I hated avoiding him, but I just couldn’t deal with my relationship issues right now. I was still feeling that mix of excitement and dread about my new third shift position. I know I’m selfish, but I just didn’t want to deal with someone else right now. I walked into my apartment where my dogs immediately greeted me with a gratuitous amount of licking and jumping. “Okay, okay, I love you too, guys!” I said, heading straight for their food pantry. I fed them and refilled their water bowl, and I fell down onto the couch. I flipped on the television and mindlessly surfed the channels for something to take my mind off of everything. I decided I did want to deal with someone else’s drama that didn’t affect me, so “Grey’s Anatomy” it was. Milo, my border collie, jumped on the couch and toppled onto my lap. Milly followed, but I had to pick her up since her back has been getting weaker. Milly is my little daschund that I’ve had for ten years. She’s still loving toward me and frisky with Milo, but she is starting to have trouble walking and jumping. I don’t even want to imagine life without her.

The phone rang again, and this time I decided to answer so I wouldn’t have to figure out anymore lies to tell. “Hey, Greg, what’s up?” I said. He spoke sweetly to me, and my whole body tensed up in horrible pain. My heart felt heavy. How did I ever get myself into this? “Hey, sweetie, I was calling to see if you wanted me to come over tonight. We could watch a movie and, you know, relax,” he suggested. I knew exactly what he meant by “relax”. I definitely wasn’t in the mood for that. “I can’t, Greg, I have to be up early tomorrow morning for a meeting. I’m being transferred to Greenville for a third shift position,” I replied solemnly. “Oh, well that is good, right? You’ve wanted this for a long time. Why would they have you come in early tomorrow if you’re going to be on third shift?” he asked in his happy, bubbly voice. “I don’t know, it’s just some dumb meeting,” I replied sharply. “Okay, I didn’t know,” he said defensively. I sighed and rolled my eyes. I knew that I was being harsh with him. “I’m going to the meeting in the morning, and I will start the graveyard shift on Tuesday night. So, it’s not so bad. I’ll go to the meeting and get to know the layout of the new store as well as get introduced to this whole new set of people. It’ll be interesting. Then, I can go home and nap for awhile,” I explained a bit nicer this time. He laughed. Sometimes he laughs and I don’t know why or how what I said could be funny. It makes me wonder if what I say is funny when I’m actually trying to crack him up. “Well, that sounds like a plan. So, did you want to go out tomorrow night?” he asked anxiously. “I will call you tomorrow afternoon at some point,” I reassured him.

I sat for a moment staring at my phone. I was trapped, yet again, in a relationship that I did not want. I was going to eventually have to break his heart, but I didn’t want to think about it with everything else going on. I rolled a joint and smoked to get away from my thoughts. I sat there, breathing it in deeply, down into my chest and closed my eyes. I just had to learn to enjoy little moments and not put so much pressure on myself. I smiled to myself and cuddled with Milly. Milo was now sitting on the floor with her toy rope in her mouth, staring at me with a longing gaze. I rolled my eyes as I attempted to pull it from her grip. Her teeth were much stronger than my hand, so I gave up and told her to come join us on the couch. She sneezed from the smoke, and I laughed. I turned on some music and got lost in the moment. Mumford and Sons played for me until I drifted to sleep, still hearing the music in my dreams. Suddenly, I awoke and jumped off the couch to see what time it was. The clock read 4 am, so I had about an hour and a half left to sleep. I sat up on the couch, stretched, and staggered to my bedroom with Milo and Milly slowly following me. I set my alarm to 5:30 and quickly passed out, still wearing my work clothes and suffering from the worst case of cotton mouth.

Band of Horses blared loudly from my radio alarm clock, and I threw everything off of my dresser trying to find the thing before I finally turned it off successfully. I sighed. “It’s only for a few hours, and then I can go home and sleep,” I said to myself. I stripped off my clothes and climbed into a hot, steamy shower. I stood there for a moment, enjoying the heat and the feeling of cleanliness. I felt like crying, but the tears wouldn’t come. So, I laughed. I laughed harder than I have in a long time, but it wasn’t because I wanted to. I washed all of the soap off of me and dried off. Milo and Milly were waiting for me outside of my bathroom door. My bathroom was in my bedroom, separated only by a thin door without a lock. Even though I lived by myself, it was quite convenient. I combed my hair with my fingers and shook my head a few times so that it would look somewhat curly. I didn’t bother with work clothes since this was just a meeting, so I pulled on some jeans and buttoned up a plain white shirt. I didn’t really care too much what I looked like. I needed to figure out what kind of job that I would care about while on hiding in the third shift position. I slipped on some flats, fed my fur kids, and headed out the door.

I drove down the long country road to my new location with the windows rolled down. I didn’t get much sleep, and I still felt a little bit high, but I was feeling a strange euphoria this morning. I needed a change, and I was getting it finally. I arrived at the store at exactly 7 am, so I quickly parked and walked briskly to the entrance. I walked in and about twenty sets of eyes were on me. “Hi, I’m Lisa, the new girl,” I said nervously. Seriously, did I look at the time wrong? Was I actually late? “Everyone, this is Ms. Lisa, she will be our new third shift manager. Why don’t you all introduce yourselves to her? We’ll start over here with you, Ellen,” Mrs. Steepleton annouced. All of the employees and managers who worked at this location were there, and they introduced themselves. I immediately forgot all of their names. “Okay, guys, we are here today because I need to address the problems that I’ve noticed with all of you here lately,” Mrs. Steepleton announced as she handed out a memo to each of us outlining each problem that she had with everyone. As she began to speak, a customer walked in and looked very confused. “Are you open?” a lady with a tooth missing and badly bleached hair asked timidly. “Yes, we are, what can I help you find?” the assistant store manager asked eagerly. “I just need cigarettes, ma’am,” the lady replied, “I’m so sorry to interrupt y’all.” “No, no, we are here to serve you,” Mrs. Lewis, the assistant, replied apologetically. I covered my mouth so no one could notice my laughing. Everyone was standing there staring at Mrs. Lewis and the poor, confused woman just wanting to feed her habit. “Okay, guys, let’s start from the top. Maria, read to me the first sentence on the paper,” Mrs. Steepleton instructed. “The villagers are running amuck!” Maria read enthusiastically. A couple of people laughed. “That’s right, Maria, that is what is happening right now. Read the first bulleted line for me,” Mrs. Steepleton instructed. “A lunch break is thirty minutes and a 15 minute break is 15 minutes. You must take a thirty minute break if you…” Maria started. “Yes, thank you Maria, but I just wanted you to read the first line,” Mrs. Steepleton corrected. I rolled my eyes looking down at the memo. Mike would never have done something like this. He just wrote people up when they did something wrong, and he fired people if they continued to screw up. I hated this store already.

“Okay, all of you are free to go except for the managers. We are going to have a managers’ meeting in my office,” Mrs. Steepleton said. “Except for us who have to work, right?” John, the first shift front cashier, asked. “Um, yeah,” Mrs. Steepleton answered as someone slapped him on the back of his shaved head. He had tattoos going up and down both arms and a lip ring hanging from his mouth. “Get that ring out, John! You know better,” Mrs. Lewis shouted at him. He shook his head and took it out and put it in his pocket. I had no idea where the office was, so I tried to follow the managers, but they were all going in different directions. “Where is the meeting?” I asked Mrs. Steepleton. “Oh, it is in the office, I’ll be in there in a minute,” she replied as she rushed off to the other side of the store. I asked the wrong question. “Mrs. Lewis!” I shouted. She kept walking and talking to one of the older employees. “Where is the office?!” I shouted. “It’s over here, just follow me, geez,” the male manager replied, annoyed. I couldn’t even remember his name, but I didn’t really want to as rude as he was. I followed him into the office, and Mrs. Lewis and the other female manger came in behind us. “Mrs. Steepleton will be in here in a minute. She had something to take care of,” Mrs. Lewis replied. The male manager snorted. Mrs. Lewis gave him a knowing look, and he whispered an apology. There were two books propped up against the computer in Mrs. Steepleton’s office. They were both about leadership. It’s never a good sign to have to read books on leadership in your work office.

Mrs. Steepleton came in and sat down. “Alright, everyone, this is Lisa, she’s going to be alternating third shift with Amanda,” she began. Amanda waved at me. “Well, you don’t have very big shoes to fill,” the male manager joked. I laughed. “Jeff is a really short guy,” Amanda explained. “I know Jeff. We went on a blind date a long time ago,” I revealed, trying to break the ice. “Wow, you must have been blind to go out with him,” Mrs. Steepleton replied. Everyone laughed. ‘Professional’ was not the word to describe these people. “Well, it was just one date,” I explained. “I would hope so,” Mrs. Steepleton replied. She was definitely a mean girl when she was in high school. “Seriously, though, Jeff was useless. He didn’t hardly do anything here, and he didn’t give us a notice. He just handed in his keys and said, ‘Peace’,” Mrs. Lewis added. “Wow, that is pretty unprofessional,” I replied mockingly. “Oh, I’m so glad God sent you to us,” Mrs. Lewis said smiling. I smiled back uncomfortably. “Apparently he got a job as a parking garage manager. What the hell do you even do as a parking garage manager?” Bob asked, laughing. I finally noticed the male manager’s name tag. Everyone continued laughing at Jeff, and I wondered if they’d ever make fun of me that way. I really didn’t care because I was totally going to make fun of this entire ridiculous meeting to Joe. I couldn’t wait to call him and tell him what idiots I was now working with. As I was walking to my car, Amanda stopped me. “So, has anyone told you about the weird sounds in the store at night?” she asked, smiling. “No, but I have heard some horror stories about third shift at this store,” I replied nervously. She laughed. “Just be prepared. Not all of the noises that you’ll hear can be blamed on the rats or the building settling. It can get pretty weird sometimes,” she explained. “Okay, well, I don’t believe in ghosts, so I’m not too worried about it,” I replied, annoyed with this whole situation. She laughed again, and waved goodbye to me. I shook my head and didn’t give it much more thought. I drove home and finally felt my lack of sleep affecting me. I turned up the music and rolled down the windows to keep myself awake.

My phone buzzed, and I knew that it was Greg texting me. When I pulled into my parking lot, I decided to read the text. Oh, he was so predictable. “Hi, babe. After you nap, let’s hang out,” the text read. I rolled my eyes as hard as I could roll them. I did not want to see him. I wanted to spend the day with myself, and maybe with my dogs. I got out of my car and headed to my apartment, shoving my phone back into my purse without replying. “Lisa, how’s it going?” Brad, one of my neighbors, shouted from a few feet away. “Hey, Brad, headed to work?” I asked. “Yes, working on the weekend sucks,” he lamented. “I know what you mean. I’m hoping to someday get out of retail hell,” I said half-jokingly. “Well, I’ll see you around, Lisa,” he said with a smile that lit up the whole run-down parking lot. Man, why couldn’t I go out with a guy like that? I shouldn’t think that way, but I couldn’t help it. I wondered if I could ever get tired of that face? He was definitely on my list of future possibilities, even if he didn’t know it. I walked into my parking lot, and Milo immediately jumped on me and drowned me in doggie kisses. “I see you, I love you, too! We will walk after I nap, buddy,” I said through giggles. I threw down my purse, slipped off my shoes, and laid down on the couch. I smoked a joint and fell asleep with the sun shining on me from the living room window with the slightly opened blinds. It reminded me a little of lying on the beach. It was fun to escape to places like that in my mind sometimes. As I fell into a deeper sleep, I began to dream. I dreamed that I was ringing up customers in that store. I felt like I had been there for hours and couldn’t leave. Then, I noticed that all of the customers had something in common: none of them had eyes. They just had black holes where there should be eyes. I was the only person who seemed to notice this as an unusual thing. I felt terrified, and I wanted to leave so I yelled, “Help!” to Mrs. Steepleton. Mrs. Steepleton and Amanda were there, and they began laughing at me loudly. Then the ceiling began to leak and water began sprinkling on my arm. I woke up screaming, and Milly was on top of me, furiously licking my arm.

April 4, 2012

Six Year Hiatus

Filed under: Blogging — desi83 @ 7:52 am

I had the year from hell from 2006-2007. I was finally teaching high school English, which was my dream job ever since I was a kid. I was in a relationship with a man who wanted to live with me and possibly marry me one day. He wanted to travel the world with me. I went into that school full of confidence and expectations. I was going to change lives. These students were going to love reading and writing once I was finished with them. I was armed with theories from famous child psychologists and highly experienced professors of education who had revolutionized the field of education. I was going to be the next big inspiration like the teachers in Dangerous Minds, Stand and Deliver, or even Jack Black from School of Rock. Okay, Jack Black? That never would have worked in real life. Michelle Phieffer probably would have been good to just get through the year without being raped killed at that school if it had been in real life. I went into the classroom, and a paper wad was thrown at me when I had my back turned. My classroom was wrecked and things were stolen when I had a substitute fill in for me. There were rumours started about me every time I spoke with a male teacher. I was also teaching students literature and writing who didn’t yet have a grasp of basic grammar and mechanics even though they supposedly learned that in middle school. I had 35 students in one class, the “advanced” English class. Anyone who signed up for it and did not fail freshman English was allowed in that class. I was accused of picking on students by their parents when I attempted to discipline them by giving them demerits when they were disruptive in my class.

I tried these so-called progressive teaching methods that I’d learned in college. The students either laughed at me or became completely chaotic because, what I didn’t realize then, and what my education professors failed to tell me, high school students respond better to structure. Kids like structure whether they want to admit it or not. The best teachers that I had in high school taught using very structured teaching methods. They taught us and treated us as if we were adults. That is why we were all there together, right? The teachers were preparing us for adulthood, for the workforce and individual responsibility. I learned nothing in college about how to teach. I learned how to teach after considering what went wrong and how to fix it. I also learned how to teach by training employees as a retail manager. To top it all off, I have grown as a person. I was 23 years old when I began teaching. I was listening to the same music as they were, dressing the same as they were outside of the classroom, and to some extent, in the classroom. I still had a teenager’s mentality because I had only lived on my own for a few months before I began teaching.

I also was still very naive with romantic relationships. I was in an abusive relationship at the time, which left me feeling weak and powerless. You cannot be a teacher and be weak and powerless. I’m sure the students sensed that in me-the weakness, not the abuse. If your students don’t see you as strong and assertive, how can they respect you? I have been hiding in retail management for six years. I think I have grown a lot since then and learned some very difficult life lessons. I think I’m ready to get my Master’s Degree and come back to teaching as a wiser, more educated, and stronger teacher. I’m good at teaching. I know, because I’ve had employees tell me that. I find myself teaching people how to do stuff all the time because I’m good at explaining things to people on their level, whatever that might be, and I’m thorough. I also am still very passionate about my subject matter. I still read classical literature because I enjoy it, and I learn from it. I still write, obviously, and I’m hoping to do more of that in the coming months in terms of the story that I’m writing. Right now, I am anxious, and I know it is because I’m ready to start my adult life now.

March 27, 2012

Blue Valentine

Filed under: Uncategorized — desi83 @ 12:04 am
Tags:

Recently a friend of mine suggested that I watch Blue Valentine. She suggested it right before I broke off my engagement because she said that I could relate to it. I ended up renting it a few days after we broke up, and I could definitely see what she meant. What impressed me is how real this movie is. It is pure raw emotion, and they show all the intimate moments. Don’t watch this movie with your parents!

It begins with a married couple during the present time, but it flashes back to when they first met. We see scenes from their present life and scenes from their relationship leading up to getting married. At first I just thought Dean was a complete jerk. Yet, in the scenes from the past, I saw how he was willing to go through anything to be with his future wife, Cindy. I saw how she made bad decisions based on the wrong reasons that led her to being unhappily married. I felt the pain of both Dean and Cindy. Dean wanted to live his life for his wife and daughter, while Cindy worked to have a nursing career, a career that she loved and was good at. She wanted to be with someone who wanted more from life, someone with dreams outside of being married and being a dad. It is also obvious in the beginning that Cindy isn’t that into Dean, but she gives him a chance because of his persistence, and because she is in an unhappy relationship when she first meets Dean. In the end, my heart hurt for both of the characters. I cried for the first time in a long time. So, if you want a good cry, see this movie. If you want to see why you shouldn’t rush into a relationship or get into one for the wrong reasons, see this movie.

There are also some adorable scenes, such as when they are at a store front and Dean plays the guitar and sings in his Elvis voice while Cindy dances. It is also heart warming to see Dean play with Frankie, their little girl. They seem to have this special bond between them because Dean is willing to act silly and play with Frankie while Cindy just seems to wallow in her unhappiness. This fact becomes even more poignant when you see the movie and you have a little more information about their past. When they get married, they both have tears streaming down their faces, so it is obvious that they did love each other very deeply at one time. Overall, it was a very intense, raw story, and Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling portrayed the main characters beautifully.

Image

 

 

March 23, 2012

Broken

Filed under: angst,Blogging,relationships — desi83 @ 5:35 am

My wedding dress hangs in my closet, hidden from the world. My veil sits on my dresser, mocking me. The “Us” album that he created for me lays on my floor with clothes covering it from my sight. The ring is a ghost that I keep feeling on my finger on my left hand. I chose to walk away, and I do not regret it. I do regret letting it get that far. I regret most of my life decisions. At least this time I did stop a decision before it came into fruition. It could’ve been worse; it could’ve been a divorce years down the road. It still hurts because even though I chose to walk away and am glad that I did, I still broke off an engagement. I thought, at one point in time, that I was going to marry this man. I thought I wanted to be with him forever. Hurting someone, breaking someone else’s heart, hurts. I can’t just walk away and go on as if it was just a bump in the road of life. My heart feels cold, and my mind is cloudy. I am an empty shell right now, going through the motions. But who mourns the wicked? I don’t have the right to feel this way I guess. I am the one who broke someone else’s heart without a good explanation. How do you explain it? How do you make that person understand? My feelings changed, and I realized that I couldn’t see myself with him forever. Why not? What changed my mind?

I learned a few lessons from this that I should’ve learned long ago. When I meet someone, if he has any qualities that are deal-breakers, I cannot change them. Eventually those deal-breakers weigh on me to the point that I cannot bare them because they do not change. Also, falling in love by the third date is not realistic. Rushing into love always ends in heartbreak and despair. I also learned that it is okay to be single at 30. I am not yet 30, but I will be 29 in a couple of days, so I will most likely be single when I’m 30 unless Taye Diggs gets a divorce and knocks on my door. In all seriousness, yes, I’m an old spinster by some accounts. But I’m okay with that now. It will happen when it is supposed to happen. Lastly, I have a lot of issues that I need to work on before I can make someone else happy or be happy with that person. I need to self-improve before I can let anyone else in. As soon as I get out of this slump that consists of having anxiety attacks that are subdued by consuming a bottle of wine each time, I am going to build a better me. This is the Better Woman Project in honor of the Better Man Project blog;) I’ll come up with my own title as to not steal someone else’s idea. I know there is potential, I know there is a great person somewhere in here. I just have to find her.

March 13, 2012

Wake Up Call

Filed under: Blogging — desi83 @ 4:46 pm

I have had my head in the sand since I ran away from my teaching career in 2006. One year of working around the clock to teach stubborn, reluctant students in a school that offered new teachers no support scared me away forever. You know what, teaching in a public school is not for everyone. So, I went to retail management because I had no other options. As I said, I have had my head in the sand since then.

When I started this job, I said it was temporary until I figured out what I really wanted to do. Yet, it has been easy just to stay in my comfort zone and know that I’ll be fine financially until I figure out what I want to be when I grow up. I’m almost thirty. Now, I am getting my head pulled out of the sand and my ass kicked across the desert.

It’s time to do something with my life. My company is giving me a choice: move up, move down, or ship out, because my position is about to be officially eliminated. I don’t see myself making a lifelong career with this company, and having more responsibility with more time invested in a job that I don’t particularly enjoy seems quite dreadful. Yet, I feel pathetic allowing them to demote me and cut my pay. My pay will be cut by 5 dollars an hour. That is a slap in the face more than anything else they have done to me. Yet, if I move up, I will be in a salary position making maybe 5 grand more per year than I am now, but I’ll be working 10-20 more hours per week. No thank you.

So, I am going to see this as a wake up call. It is time to make a decision and act on it. I’ll take the demotion, and I’ll do the minimum amount of work instead of going above and beyond as I normally do, and I am going to go back to school. Right now, I am going to research possible careers and figure out what I would enjoy that is currently in demand and that pays a decent salary. I have to be absolutely sure this time when I go back to school. So, I am grateful to my company in a way because this is the wake up call that I needed. It is scary when you can’t bury your head any longer, and you have to see what is in front of you. I just hope that when I read this again in a few years that I am in a place of contentment for the first time in my life.

March 9, 2012

My first horror story-in the works

Filed under: horror,story — desi83 @ 9:28 am
Tags: ,

(Don’t have a title yet; open to suggestions!)

“Lisa, could you come in here for a moment, please?” my boss said from his office. I could see Rob sitting down in the chair in the office. Mike always had a witness with him when he called someone into the office to be disciplined, or if he was going to give said person some bad news. Either way, dread spread through my body. My head tingled, and I felt my feet become heavy as I made my way to the office. “Yes sir?” I said timidly. “Have a seat, Lisa. I have some news for you,” Mike announced calmly. He had this calm, confident demeanor about him through all situations. I have seen this man deal with the worst of humankind, and nothing ever seems to crack him. “Alright, you are either going to hate me or love me for this,” he preceded. I closed my eyes. “Okay,” I said awkwardly. Damn it, why can’t I be as cool as him in these situations? I am such a scared little person. “Well, I heard that you were interested in third shift from a ‘little bird’ here, so I emailed Mr. Davis. You are being transferred to Greenville,” he announced. Rob winked at me. I sighed deeply. “I was actually going to ask you about the possibility of doing that today, sir, so you beat me to the punch,” I said happily. I felt my body relax. I had been wanting the graveyard shift for awhile.
“Greenville is a good place to work third shift. There is virtually no crime there, it is a quiet town, and it is not far from where you live. You will probably save about 20 bucks a week on gas as to compared to driving to this store. Also, you can go back to school or whatever you want to do since it’ll be seven days on and seven days off. You’ll just have to lose sleep during your weeks on if you want to do anything,” he reassured me.
“When do I start?” I asked.
“You need to be there tomorrow morning at 7 am for a store meeting, and then you will start on Tuesday night,” he replied with a smile.
“But I’m working until eleven tonight,” I replied, annoyed.
“It would be preferable for you to make it to the meeting,” he said sternly.
“Fine, yes, you are right,” I responded.
“Okay, well, since it is your last day at this store, why don’t we play some stockroom basketball for old time’s sake?” he asked jubilantly.
“Okay,” I said with a chuckle.
“What are the stakes?” Rob asked.
“Okay, Lisa. If you lose, you have to clean my office top to bottom,” he answered.
“What if I win?” I asked smiling slyly.
“If you win, you can leave a half an hour early. But if you lose, you have to spend that last half hour cleaning the office. How does that sound?” he asked.
“Well, so far, sir, you are undefeated, but I will take that challenge,” I said confidently.
Rob, Mike, and I walked into the stockroom to play basketball with giant beach balls and two huge cardboard boxes.
“Okay, Lisa, I’m going to put this box inside of this bigger box. It’s two points for the outside box, three points for the inside box. Actually, that is the point system for you. For me, it is one point for the outside box, and two points for the inside box. That way you have a little advantage since you’re playing the reigning champion,” he said graciously.
“Okay, as long as you aren’t doing it because I’m a girl,” I said defensively.
“No, he gave me the same advantage,” Rob said, “and he still won.”
“Okay, Lisa, stand behind this piece of tape and toss the ball in,” Mike suggested.
“Okay, here goes nothing,” I said as I bent my knees and hurdled the ball toward the boxes. It went right over them.
“Oh, wow, too much power behind that shot,” Rob said laughing.
“I’m just warming up,” I said confidently.
“Hey now, what is going on in here?” Melinda asked as she walked in the stockroom with her cart full of fixtures from the reset she was doing. “I’m out here working my ass off, and this is what the bosses are doing?” she scoffed.
“It’s Lisa’s last day here, so we’re giving her a little goodbye party,” Mike said as he approached the little strip of tape on the floor.
“Oh, wow, she’s leaving?” she asked.
“Yes, I’m moving to Greenville to work third shift,” I replied.
“Mmph,” she said as she went about her work. We didn’t get along most of time. She tended to make snide remarks to me hinting of her jealousy, and I got onto her quite often for slacking off. Sometimes I hated being a manager because I often thought it would be so much easier only be responsible for my work instead of everyone else’s.
“Oh, two points!” Mike shouted when he made the inside box.
“2-0, you’re up!” Rob shouted.
“You guys didn’t tell me there was a game going on!” Chris said as he entered our makeshift basketball court.
“It’s Lisa’s last day, so we had to have one last game with her,” Mike replied.
“Yes, I’ve already beaten you this week, Chris, so now I have to beat Mike,” I said teasing him.
“When did you beat me?” he asked.
“We played a little paper wad basketball at the register the other day, and I beat you,” I reminded him. “Oh, that so does not count,” he said laughing. I made my way to the strip of tape, and I softly threw the ball this time as throwing it hard did not work last time. It barely touched the edge of the outside box and rolled back to me. “Oh, this is going to be really bad,” I lamented. We made a few more shots, and Mike was ahead 8-0.
“Okay, this is the last shot. If I make it to 10 points, you’ll be cleaning my office,” he gloated.
“It’s not over yet, Mike,” I said with an evil smile. I was up, and I bent my knees, focused on the inside box, and tossed the ball. It flew over both boxes.
“Rob, go grab that ball for me, will you?” Mike said. Rob obediently ran to fetch the ball for him. Rob was his lackey, or so I called him. He wanted a promotion so badly, so he did whatever Mike told him to. “Okay, Lisa, here goes nothing,” Mike said as he smoothly tossed the ball directly into the 2-point box. “I can’t wait to see my clean office tomorrow!” he said triumphantly. “Okay, Rob, let’s play to 10 points to see who is going to buy Lisa’s goodbye cake,” he suggested.
“Hmmm, can it be any cake? I can buy her a Hostess cake off the shelf then?” Rob said with a smirk. Rob was glad to be rid of me. I was out-performing him even though he was technically above me, so with me gone, it would make him look better.
“No, Rob, it will be a cake of her choice from Publix,” Mike corrected him.
“Alright, I’m bringing my A game today,” he said as he stepped to the line of tape.
“So, you are really leaving us?” Chris asked me.
“Yes, apparently a ‘little bird’ told Mike that I wanted to be transferred. I was kind of caught off guard since I was planning on approaching Mike about it. Even though it is what I wanted, I’m kind of pissed that they beat me to the punch,” I replied.
“Man, that is crazy. We’re going to miss you here, Lisa. But I’m glad it’s working out for you,” he said while pulling stock from the shelves and loading it on his cart.
“I’m going to miss you too, Chris,” I said. We stood looking at each other for a moment.
“Well, keep in touch, alright?” he said diverting his eyes from me.
“We always have Facebook,” I said with a laugh.
“Oh yes, there is that,” he said smiling.
“Oh, looks like Rob is buying your cake, Lisa!” Mike said, gloating.
“Well, Rob, I would like a red velvet cake, please,” I said slyly.
“No problem, your highness,” he replied.
“Alright, guys get back to work, enough funny business,” Mike shouted.
“Yeah, okay,” I said giggling.
“Hey Lisa, wait up,” Mike said. “Okay, just because this is your last day, it doesn’t mean it is time to slack off. This is the day to give me your best work because you always want to leave a great impression every time that you leave a place,” he advised.
“I know that, Mike. I always work hard for you,” I said, slightly offended.
“Okay, well, it really has been a pleasure working with you, Lisa. I know at that store you’ll be like a comet shooting through the night, changing the way they do things. Their last couple of third shift managers didn’t make much of an impression, so they’ll be glad to have someone who works hard,” Mike said. I smiled, and went on working on the project that I’d left earlier.
I’ve been at Jones’ Drug for five years, and all along I have been trying to find a way out. I went to college and majored in English, but had no idea what to do with my degree after I graduated. Third shift was hopefully going to be my way out of retail since I’d have time to go back to school. My life so far has been pretty dull. I’ve worked as an assistant manager giving orders to employees who don’t want to be there and calming down customers who take their frustrations out on those reluctant employees. I put out stock, reset departments, put together displays to try to spotlight whatever products that corporate wants us to spotlight, and I make sure all the cash is accounted for. It has become pretty redundant over the years. Promotions are getting fewer with the failing economy, and the few who do get promoted are seeing less bonuses than their predecessors and have worked twice as many hours to make up for the hours cut from the employees and hourly managers. I am an hourly manager, and I am fine to stay that way until I find a new line of work. I have done all I can in this career, and I am ready to move on. I just have to figure out what I am going to move on to do. I have always wanted to be a writer in some capacity. I just need to align my career desires with actual career possibilities. Journalism is a dying art because of the technology revolution. Being a paid author is about as likely as winning the lottery. I do not want to teach. I tried teaching middle school for a year, and I ended up on anxiety medication before that year was up. Showing up to work doped up on Xanax was not exactly a way to be a good role model. So, I was going to research a few careers during the next few months, and I was going to go back to school in the fall. It seemed like the perfect situation at the time. Greenville, I knew, was where I needed to be. I cleaned the office that night top to bottom, just as I had promised. The fumes from the Spit Fire spray gave me a headache and a bit of dizziness. Joe walked into the office and gave me a questioning look when he spotted me scrubbing the office floor. “I lost a bet, Joe,” I said smiling. He laughed.
“Hey, did you happen to tell Mike that I wanted third shift?” I asked. I didn’t know who else could have told him.
“No, I didn’t tell anyone. I figured you’d talk to him if you wanted to take the job,” he replied.
“Hmm, I bet it was that rat bastard, Rob,” I said grumbling.
“Ah, you told Rob, huh?” he said with a smirk.
“I got mad at him one day, and I said something like, ‘I just need to go on third shift so I don’t have to deal with any of this bullshit’, and I guess he mentioned it to Mike,” I realized.
“So, you’re getting transferred then? That’s great, right?” Joe asked. Joe was one of the third shift managers at that store, and we had many conversations about our hopes and dreams during that overlap between our shifts. He had already told me about the Greenville opening a few weeks ago.
“Yes, but I wanted to ask for the transfer. Instead, Mike apparently heard from a ‘little bird’ that I wanted third shift, so he processed the transfer before I talked to him about it,” I complained.
“Oh, yeah, I can see how that would throw you off guard. Well, are you happy about going third shift in Greenville, though?” he asked.
“Yes, I am happy to move on to something a little different. I may go back to school if I can figure out what I want to do,” I replied.
“Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for, Lisa,” he said.
“I do too,” I replied wistfully.
“Well, Lisa, it has been wonderful working with you, and I will give you a call sometime at your new store to see how you are doing,” Joe promised.
“Thanks, Joe. There is cake in the break room if you want some. I think I have had enough. Oh, and Rob had to buy it for me since he lost a game to Mike,” I informed him. He laughed and shook his head.
“Hopefully, both of us will be out of here one day, Lisa, and we can both realize our dreams,” Joe wished. “Hopefully,” I agreed.
Ms. Addy walked into the office to clock out, and I knew this was going to be a difficult good-bye. Ms. Addy doesn’t like most people, especially managers. In turn, most managers do not like Ms. Addy. She is irritable, bitter, and she can’t do much physical work because, well, she is old. When I first came to work for this Jones Drug location, I did not care for her upon our first meeting. Yet, she grew on me…like a fungus, but still. I learned how to deal with Mrs. Addy, and I learned how to make her smile. She loves to persuade customers to buy the beauty products that we promote, and she loves to see the results. Every day that I have worked for her, she has called me over to see the sales results in the beauty department. If she has worked the day before and done well, she likes to show me so that I’ll praise her. If someone else worked the day before and did badly, she likes for me to see how much the department truly needs her. I also know how to stand up to her when she is being unreasonable without being mean to her about it. I was going to miss Ms. Addy more than I was going to miss anyone else there. We had a special bond, especially as fellow English majors. I still wished I could see her articles that she wrote for newspapers a few decades ago.
“Well, Ms. Lisa, I guess this is good-bye,” Ms. Addy said sadly.
“Yes, it looks like it, Ms. Addy. Now you be nice to the new guy,” I said sternly but affectionately.
“I already don’t like him. How is having another male manager going to help me in cosmetics? They don’t know anything about cosmetics, so they don’t care,” she said grumpily.
“That is true, but I hear he is a very nice man,” I reassured her.
“Well, I don’t like him, and he better not march in here telling me what to do,” she scoffed. I laughed. “I know you’ll give him hell, and he’ll have to either figure out how to deal with you or leave,” I said smiling. She grabbed me for a hug.
“Ms. Lisa, bad things have happened to people who’ve worked third shift at the Greenville store. There are legends, you know,” Ms. Addy warned. Joe was sitting behind us in the office, chuckling to himself. “It is true! I’m sure you’ve heard the stories, Joe. Ten years ago, there was a manager working in the stock room. She was by herself while her cashier was up front to ring up customers, if any straggled in at three in the morning. She was on a ladder getting down some stock for them to put out. She fell off that ladder and broke several bones in her body. She laid there all night bleeding inside and out with no one there to find her and help her. They say she screamed for hours, and no one heard her through that heavy door. Her cashier never checked on her because he was too busy playing his Gameboy to think about what she might be doing. The opening manager found her there, but it was too late,” Ms. Addy said darkly. Joe laughed again, “it was an accident. People fall off ladders, especially the old rickety ones we have at our stores.” I still felt chills run up my spine.
“Okay, did you know about the cardboard compactor incident that happened fifteen years ago?” she asked. “No, I have not heard of that,” Joe replied cynically. “Okay, there was a man named Stephan who worked as the night shift manager in Greenville at the time. He was in the stockroom throwing away several boxes from where he had put up the product from the warehouse that night. He jabbed as many in as he could until there was no room left before he turned on the compactor.He stood there waiting until it made a hideous noise and smoke came seeping out of it. He opened the door and crawled inside to shove the cardboard down into the compactor. Somehow, he fell inside of it and the door slammed shut. He screamed for help, but it was futile. There is no way his cashier could hear him through that door with his being all the way up front. A couple of hours passed, and the cashier started to wonder what his manager was doing. He walked into the stockroom and yelled for him. He didn’t hear or see his manager, so he went back to the front assuming he was in the office. Seven am rolled around, and the store manager arrived. Then, the potato chip vendor arrived. Mrs. Lemon, the store manager, did not have time to try to find Stephan because she had to check in the vendor. After the vendor had been checked in and put out his stock, he went to the stockroom to throw away his empty cardboard boxes. He opened the compactor, threw in the boxes, and turned on the motor. He still has nightmares about the shrill screams that he heard coming from the compactor. Smoke filled the air, and the sound of bones crushing could be heard from within the machine. He had walked away as soon as he turned on the motor, but he quickly ran back to the compactor and turned it off when he heard those blood-curdling screams. It was so dark inside of the machine that he couldn’t figure out what had made the noise. Also, smoke was rolling out of the opening. He immediately rushed to the store manager to tell her what happened. She bravely climbed into it with a flashlight with the vendor standing by. The vendor later said that her screams were almost as traumatizing to him than the ones that came from the compactor,” Ms. Addy animately narrated.
“How do you know all of this, Mrs. Addy?” I asked. “I read the story in the local paper. They had video footage from the stockroom as well as the witness accounts. You know, I wrote a story about an incident that happened there thirty years ago, but it was the cashier who was killed,” she explained.
“You know, Ms. Addy, I think that is all that I can stand to hear right now. I will be very careful there, I promise,” I said, cringing.
“Try not to be by yourself too much. Make your cashier help you and be near you as much as possible. It only happens to people who find themselves alone a lot there,” she warned.
“Yes, ma’am, Ms. Addy. I’m going to miss you,” I said smiling warmly at her.
“Well, give us a call here sometime, or stop in and visit,” she suggested.
“I will,” I agreed. With that, I went home filled with excitement, and well, a new fear about this new position.

February 23, 2012

Screw You, Ben and Jerry

Filed under: Athletics,Blogging — desi83 @ 9:43 am

I have started running again after being on hiatus because of some minor health issues, and I was feeling very proud of myself. I did my second day of training today, and I ran like I did before I got lazy and out of shape again. I was running full speed, totally ignoring the pain. Well, except once I did stop for a bit until the shooting pain stopped piercing my side. But as soon as the pain subsided, I was back to it. I’ve been eating healthier, for the most part. I’ve gone gluten free as my doctor suggested to help with my frequent stomach aches. Fish, peanut butter, and fruit were becoming more prevalent in my diet. So, in celebration tonight, I decided to treat myself to my favorite ice cream. I first wanted a blizzard from Dairy Queen because that would mean that I wouldn’t have to go into the dreaded Wal-Mart, but it was after eleven, so the lights were out. Ben and Jerry’s would be worth a walk through the hell fire, so I braved it. Wal-Mart isn’t quite as bad at eleven o’clock at night, so I walked right to the ice cream section and searched for the premium pint section. There it was, a selection that I’ve never seen at a store before as I usually go to Kroger. Wal-Mart definitely has the advantage of buying pretty much whatever flavors they feel like getting from the company, so there were flavors that I didn’t even know existed. They also had a large supply of the one serving-size B&J’s. However, the pint was staring right at me-Phish Food. I put my hand around it, but something else caught my eye: Phish Food Froyo! It’s half the fat! So, the decision was made. I nabbed it along with some fresh strawberries to make myself feel better. I had a plan. I was going to go home, scoop some Froyo out into a small bowl, and watch the newest episode of Glee that free Hulu will let me watch (I can’t watch the most current episode that has everyone freaking out online because free Hulu makes me wait 8 FREAKING DAYS!). That is exactly what I did. Then, I saw that there was a new Cougar Town episode. I haven’t watched that show in several months, but I remembered liking it. It is done by the same guy that wrote Scrubs, or produced it, or something along those lines. Anyways, the humor is always fantastic even if the title doesn’t make a lot of sense. A lot has happened since I stopped watching it. Grayson and Jules were talking about having babies, and they went to Hawaii to convince Travis to come home with them and go back to college. The last time that I watched the show, he was just starting college, and he had just met the chick to whom he’d proposed and was subsequently dumped by her according to this episode. So, naturally, I wanted to watch yet another episode. I had planned on being in the bed by one o’clock. It is now two-thirty in the am. So, that was one goal shot to hell. Anyway, while I was watching the second episode of Cougar Town (it was actually a two-part episode, so who could blame me?), I got an uncontrollable craving for that Froyo. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The craving carried me to the kitchen and forced my hand to open the freezer and pull out the pint. It was still three quarters of the way full. I had done so well with portion control earlier. The craving carried me back to my seat where I continued to watch my show and slowly make my way through the pint. I told myself that I would eat half of it. But the craving would not let me stop. One more marshmallow swirl, I thought. One more chocolate fish, I thought. One more caramel-chocolate spoonful of goodness. Then, I could see the bottom. So, that was two goals that I bombed tonight. I was going to put all of the blame on Ben and Jerry for making ice cream, or in this case Froyo, that is so deliciously irresistible that I can’t stop eating it. However, I have to let Hulu share the blame. I don’t spend a lot of time in the living room watching television. I’m busy working, running, shopping, socialising, or doing anything else besides sitting on the couch watching television most of the time. However, when it is late and I should be getting in the bed, I get the urge to pull out my laptop and watch television. I can’t stop at just one show. It’s one after the other after the other after the other. But I will say this: that was a glorious moment watching a simple sitcom and devouring some of the best ice cream/froyo in the universe. Tomorrow, I will start eating healthy again as I obviously do not have any self discipline. It’s not that I’m worried about weight, because I’m fine with how much I weigh. It’s that I know I can be so healthy and in shape that it is sick, but it is sometimes more fun to binge eat and watch mindless television. Ah, the struggle continues. Tomorrow is a new day! Well, actually, I suppose tomorrow is already here, but right now, this is a new day!

January 26, 2012

Being the Car Crash

Filed under: Uncategorized — desi83 @ 8:10 am

“Headlights On Dark Roads”
(Snow Patrol from “Eyes Open”)
For once I want to be the car crash
Not always just the traffic jam
Hit me hard enough to wake me
And lead me wild to your dark roads

Headlights show it all before me
So beautiful, so clear
I will reach out and take it
’cause I’m so tired of all this fear

My tongue is lost so I can’t tell you
Please just see it in my eyes
I’ll pull the thorns from our ripped bodies
And let the blood fall in my mouth

This is the song that is in my head right now because these lyrics describe exactly how I feel right now. I want to be the car crash. I need to make an impact, a big one, not just a ripple. I can’t be satisfied with this, what this is right now. Hmmm…ah well, I’ll just have to keep trying to figure that one out. I think we are all here to make some sort of impact, and it is just a matter of finding what you can do to make that happen. The worst thing that can happen is to end up a character in a Tolstoy story, lamenting your wasted life in your dying days. I just feel like this is my time, right now, because I am so much more anxious than ever before. I suppose I could give a meaningful effort to publishing my book. That would definitely be a good one to check off the old bucket list. To have an entire book published, yes, that would be car crash worthy. Because as the lyrics say, I’m tired of all this fear.

Next Page »

Theme: Rubric. Blog at WordPress.com.

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.