H-U-M-I-L-I-T-Y…

Last night was my first night working the new position… and my first time wearing a hair net…

And my first time seeing one of the guys I graduated high school with in ten years.

Yeah.

Fabulous.



Let me back up a few steps.

In high school, there was a guy that no one liked. He thought he was a total genius and felt we were all beneath him.

Sadly, he was a total genius and we were probably all beneath him.

I didn’t particularly get along with him because I don’t bond well with jerks… oh and he took great pride in being mean to my brothers. If there’s one thing you just don’t do to our family, its mess with one of us. It ticks off the other six siblings.

The guy and I fought like cats and dogs in high school and when we graduated I just knew I was going to do something with my life and he, with his crappy attitude, would fail.

I heard over the years that he got married, popped out a few kidlets, and was very successful in the field of physics and sciences.

Crap.

Needless to say, I had no desire – especially in light of my current situation – to see the guy. But of course, with my recent luck, the guy came to the ‘Big Box’ store last night.

Nothing says ‘I’ve gone places since high school’ like a hair net and a “Would you like sauerkraut with your hot dog?”


Sooo… I did a very mature thing - I smiled and wished him well in his future endeavors.

Right.

And I’ve got a dark tan and skin void of freckles.


So what really happened?

I pulled my hat down, flipped over my name tag, and went on a bathroom break.



I’m all about being humble and recognizing the value in working to pay bills but geez…

I’ve got standards.

Just when you think no one is looking…

Someone is.

The ‘Big Box’ store has decided to cut hours and lay off most of the temporary/seasonal employees. Since I’m a newbie/temporary/seasonal employee, my number was up first

Just what I need right?


BUT…


Someone noticed my work ethic.

That ‘someone’ was a store manager. In an effort to save me from a layoff, she transferred me to another department and rather than cut my hours… she gave me a full time plus overtime 6 day shift.


I guess mom and dad were right when they said… Work like someone is always watching.


Well… it was either my work ethic or… maybe the manager was tired of me drawing crowds at the cart corral?

It’s a total bummer because I just mastered my running/cartwheel/back flip routine.

Take that Mary Lou Retton.



They are transferring me to foods. So… uh… if you find a hair in your bread…

It TOTALLY wasn’t me.

…Even if it’s red… and even if I’m the only redhead in the whole department….

It still wasn’t me.



Oh, and I have an interview with the transit peeps on Monday. I was excited… until they told me how many applications they received and how many people they are interviewing. Let’s just say…

My odds aren’t good…

Unless of course…

They’ve seen my cart routine. If so, the job is in the bag.

Is it getting hot?

Theoretically, I’m not a huge fan of my job at the ‘Big Box’ store.

I won’t go into the details – lest I look completely ungrateful for a paying job.

But let’s just say, in theory of course, that it’s not exactly my favorite job ever.

Anyway, they asked for volunteers to work six day work weeks over the next two months for the holiday rush.

A silence fell in the break room.



No one volunteered.


So…


I did.



It’s as if I just complained to the devil that hell wasn’t hot enough and asked him to turn up the flames.

I know! It’s been a while…

But I’ve been working two jobs and job hunting at the same time. Plus I’ve been working on something writing related… I hope to be able to share the news but as per my rule, I’ll share only if the news is good.

Fingers crossed.

Anyway…

The Monday interview went as well as it could despite the circumstances. What are the circumstances?

Um…

They offered me a job 5 months ago and I turned them down.

That tends to leave a lasting impression… and not a good one.


I did learn a few things:

1 – I don’t turn into a tomato anymore.
Kind of a bummer. That was my ‘thing’.

2 – I still sweat.
Ugh. That’s nasty. I’d rather that NOT be my ‘thing’.

3 – I should probably have avoided using the words… ‘I’m obsessed with your company’
What?
It’s true. I love them. I just… maybe shouldn’t have told them how much.


I had another interview Friday… but I’ll have to talk about that later. I’m still a little hot under the collar about it.



We’re still paying bills timely so of course…

I’m smiling today.

Say a little...

Prayer for me.



I've got an interview today.



Those pants I shrunk... fit like a dream today.


Thank you cardio cart workout.

A brand new scale…

Chris is still working his day job and has worked for a few friends on the weekends and I’m getting some money from Big Box Store and my ‘modeling’ gig. We’re still able to clear our bills but money for non necessities like… food… is still tough to come by.

I bought a half dozen eggs for a few dinner recipes – ramen and rice inspired of course – and tried to save a few precious eggs for a little life luxury… chocolate cake.

I excitedly pulled down the dusty box of cake mix, ripped open the bag, and reviewed the recipe.

Oil - ½ cup. Check.

Water - 1 cup. Check.

Eggs - three. Che…

I opened the egg carton to discover only two eggs left. Someone had eaten my eggs. Based on my crummy week, I nearly folded into tears.

I stared at the mix in the bowl and decided…

Hold on. Before I tell you my decision, let me explain. I believe there is a scale.

Not Ghetto ----------------------------------------------------------------Ghetto


I have NEVER been on the ghetto side but…

Now I’m camping there.


I decided to take out a third of the cake mix, a third of the water, a third of the oil, plop in the two eggs…

And eat the remaining dry cake mix with a spoon while my ghetto cake was cooking.



The cake was ghetto fabulous by the way.

Jumping in with both feet…

I’ve been working a lot for the big box store and I have the scars to prove it. My hands look like they’ve been through a meat grinder and my arms are sporting some super cool bruises.

Nope. I’m not looking for sympathy.

I love battle scars. They make me look rough and tough… in my pink work shirt.

I’m doing well at my job. I’m pushing to be the best employee Big Box Store has. Because of my quality work, I’ve been given the following recognitions:

1 – I am the fastest cart corraler.

Truth: Because of my small size, I don’t have the weight ratio needed to push 10 shopping carts. I have to get a running start to build momentum and slam myself into the cart stack to get it moving. In order to keep it moving… I have to keep running. In order to get the stack to turn into the corral, I have to sprint.

Yes, I look as ridiculous as it sounds.

I had a couple customers cheer, applaud, and laugh at my efforts.

And no, I haven’t needed to stop the stack yet. Most people move when they seen carts rushing toward them at 25 miles an hour. And… I’m not sure I’m capable of stopping anyway.


2 – I am the fastest refrigerator and freezer organizer.

Truth: Take me from pushing carts in the hot sun, throw me in the freezer, and yeah… I’m going to set records.

And yes, sweaty shirts can freeze to your back.


I’m going to cancel my gym membership.

8 hours a day of cardio cart pushing and shivering is plenty for me.

But hey, maybe now I can fit into those pants I shrunk.




On the day job front – I’m suddenly miss popularity.

OK, so maybe three calls for interviews in 24 hours isn’t exactly mind blowing, but I’m happy someone thinks I’m worth a second look.

I’ll make sure to add my new skills to my resume:

1 – Cart corraler
2 – Freezer Organizer

And

3 – I’ve obtained… ‘Street Cred’.

I’ve got Big Box gang scars homies.

Just stand right…. there. Yes. Behind the shrubs.

My weekend was a little… rough.

I worked at the car show and picked up three things: 1 – a cold, 2 – a reminder of why I hate customer service, and 3 – a desire for silicone implants.

Stop looking at me like that. Let me explain.


First, I picked up a nasty bug from a fellow employee. Now I have to cough, sneeze, and hack through all my interviews… oh wait. I don’t have any. Whatever. I still hate being sick.

Second, I was chewed out by a 70 year old salesman who told me, ‘You know nothing about life. You know nothing about supporting a family. You are a stupid kid’ because his customer didn’t buy a car and he felt I was responsible somehow. I wasn’t and couldn’t have possibly been.
But, umm, I’m not going to lie. The fact that he grouped me with the cute 20 something’s I was working with was flattering… so I let him run his garbage mouth for 10 uninterrupted minutes.

Third, after 2 hours of working with 3 gorgeous girls who I had at least 5 years and 5 pant sizes on, I was moved to work in a section behind a giant fichus.
Let’s not wonder why I am now holding 5 pamphlets from doctors who suck… heh heh, literally… and also install ‘plastic’.



I’m STILL looking for a job.

It’s funny how my job hunting views have changed…

Week One: Applied only at jobs I would be excited to have
Week Two: Applied only at jobs I would like to have
Week Three: Applied at jobs I could stand
Week Four: Applied at any job including circus elephant pooper scooper and *worse* customer service


I dropped off an application for another job. I carefully typed the application rather than handwriting it and dropped it off at the office this morning. The lady behind the desk stared at it then up at me, ‘How did you do this?’

‘I typed it. I wanted to make sure it was legible and easy to read.’ I replied.

She stared at me.

I smiled… and hoped the stare was admiration.

As I was walking out, I passed a kind mentally challenged man who was *ahem* applying for the job.

Great.

I am stooping to a new low… stealing jobs from the developmentally disabled.

What?!? Hey now. Desperate times call for desperate measures.



In better news, the ‘big box’ store hired me for nights and weekends.

I start Friday.

I hate being the new girl. Maybe I can dazzle my new co-workers with my wit and charm…

riiiight…

Or I can just use old reliable and…

Pay people to befriend me.

Dear George Bush…

Yesterday I had an appointment to get my teeth cleaned.

Hmm. Cleaning my teeth. Should take 20 – 30 minutes right?

Ha! You obviously don’t use my dentist.

Arrival time: 2:50PM
Departure time: 5:42PM

Sure I’m not employed and you’d think I had nothing better to do than sit and watch Judge Judy on my DVR but I actually USE my time looking for a job.

3 HOURS of which I lost yesterday to an ice cold waiting room filled with screaming children – and we all know how much I adore children… or not.


THEN, I received a letter from my attorney. I had to spend over 2 hours filling out their packet of information. What information? Every bit of information down to what grammar school I attended.

Who knows? It might be applicable. They may need to call some of my homies from first grade to ask if I favored the seesaw or the monkey bars.


Let’s see… lawsuit, dentist, unemployment.



Dear President Bush,

I have a new definition for the ‘Axis of Evil’.

Love,

Beks

Now you see me…

Now you don’t.

Apparently I’ve been cloaked with invisibility. THREE times while driving home last night, cars swerved into my lane as if I weren’t there.

Sadly, I can only blame myself.

These near death experiences were likely caused by my lack of a decent car wash. Long gone are the days of plopping down $25 for a wash and wax. It’s been…

Um…


5 months since my last wash. My car is sporting dirt and bird poop camouflage.

Sure I could wash it myself…

Just like I could go to the gym…or eat healthy…or shower more than once bi-weekly…But it’s not likely.


Also noted in the category of things invisible…

My resume.


I’m on application #122, cover letter #47, personal drop off #9, and call for an interview....

#0

Thinking my resume was the problem, I consulted my college career center and asked for assistance.

Suggested changes made to resume… 0

Minutes wasted in career center… 36.



I’ve applied everywhere from large corporations to… Jack in the Box.

Yeah.

Sure it was for the corporate office but I REALLY wanted to work there so I can tell my friends I work at Jack in the Box. I’d never mention my real paper pushing occupation. Instead, I’d suggest they drive thru and see me sometime.



For those concerned, we’re still getting by financially. Buuut… I have become one of ‘THOSE’ people at the grocery store. I went shopping with my couch cushion and ash tray money on Sunday. As soon as the total hit 40 bucks, I made the poor bag boy restock the items I couldn’t afford.

I thought I would be embarrassed but in these unsettling times, I just consider it doing my part for bag boy job security.

You’re welcome.

Um. Yes I work out. Like. TOTALLY.

I had my night/weekend job interview this morning at the ‘Big Box’ store. I waited for 45 minutes in the waiting room for my interview.

Yeah.

Because making me wait for 45 minutes does wonders for my naturally overactive nerves.

I watched as interviewee after interviewee exited and left. When my turn came, I nervously stood, wiped the sweat off my palm, and shook the hand of my interviewer.

17 minutes and a concise interview later, she smiled at me and asked me to go back to the waiting room.

Go back?

No one else went back to the waiting room so I was confused.

Then she said, ‘We’d like you to have a second interview with the store manager.’

So I waited another 15 painful minutes then spent approximately 8 minutes with an annoyed store manager who clearly had better things to do than talk to me.

‘What do you do for fun?’ He asked as he wiped his glasses.

‘I go to school.’ I replied.

‘No. What do you do for FUN? F-U-N.’ He asked again annoyed as though I hadn’t listened.

‘I understood. I enjoy school and I attend for fun.’ I replied again.

He gave me a face that said, ‘Butt kisser’

‘Are you active? I’m asking this because this job is very involved and I need someone who can keep up.’ He said, still wiping his glasses.

‘Yes, I’m very active. I go to the gym and I am an avid cyclist.’ I replied matter of factly.

Hey, before you judge, I didn’t lie to my doctor about exercising so I still had an open liar card.

‘Fabulous. What is kind of bike do you have?’ He asked.

‘Um… uh…’ I am so retarded. An ‘avid’ cyclist would know what they ride. ‘I ride a Mongoose. Sorry. It’s new and I get confused.’ I stumbled.

He threw me another ‘yeah right’ face.

I suck at lying.

‘Can you take a drug and alcohol test right now?’ He asked, finally looking at me.

A look of terror crossed my face.

‘Y-y-y-yes. A-a-a-absolutely.’ I replied timidly.

HEY! I said NO judging! No, I’ve never done drugs in my life buuuuuuut…. I may have had a glass of wine last night.

He sent me to the waiting room again to wait for the drug/alcohol test lady.

A fellow interviewee leaned over and said, ‘Man, you must be doing something seriously wrong. They keep sending you back out here!’

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that was a good thing… especially since she was sent home after the first interview.

The drug test lady took me to her office, shoved a plastic tube into my gums to ‘get a saliva sample’, and asked me to go back to the waiting room again for 15 minutes until the results came back.

When I returned to the waiting room AGAIN, I was met by the snickers of my fellow interviewees.

Thanks guys.

Those were the LONGEST 15 minutes ever! I swore they were going to find those 6 ounces of Gewürztraminer coursing through my veins... er... or my saliva for that matter.

Fortunately the lady came out and certified me drug and alcohol free then sent me home.

They are currently performing a reference check.


Hmm. Now probably would have been a good time to have reliable references.

Oops.