Mmmm, frozen milkshake
Dec. 12th, 2002 12:43 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rachg82Rachael's feet: Oh, the pain! Why must she torture us, so?
Troll, chillin' in a pair of lederhozen: This is why The Project was set in motion, my friends. If you join our side, you can have your revenge!
Feet: Oh, well, I don't know. She did ask for that foot massager last Christmas. . .
Troll: And how many times has she used it? Hmm?
Feet: Uh, once?
Troll: Thank you. She doesn't deserve you two. All you do is work, work, work for her. And what do you get in return? Pain! Fight the power, feet! Fight the power that be!
Feet: *look at each other, and nod* We're in.
You know, if my body is going to conspire against me like that, the least it could do is wait till I'm asleep or something! I can hear you, guys! Hee.
Um, right, anyway. The feet are not pleased. Neither are the thighs, or the calves for that matter. Ow, ow, and ow.
My tastebuds, however, are pleased with me, and are currently shooting smug grins at the rest of my body. Mom bought me a cookies 'n cream milkshake at Baskin Robbins, tonight. She left it in the freezer though, so it's kind of a frozen milkshake. Hee. But it's slowly melting, and it still tastes the same, just colder. So it's all good.
We were two people short tonight (one called in sick, and the other no-showed, oh and Rosa quit. Again. For sure this time, I guess) so I had to go upstairs. Yuck. It is just so insanely trashed up there, there aren't even words. Every rack is messed up. And the racks are all full to the brim, and close together, and ugh. And the intimate apparels/pajamas/maternity area that I used to work in, makes me weep now. So neglected! They used to call me Panty Girl up there, because I'd make the panty tables all perfect and everything, and now? *shakes head* Let's not even discuss it. And the bras are just no. Heh. Just NO.
So, yeah, I spent most of my night trying in vain to clean. But you could spend a week straight up there, and still not have it all finished. It's just crazy. At least they didn't keep us there past midnight though.
Oh, and I saw my lovah tonight. And actually talked to him! Have I mentioned lately that I want to marry him and bear his children? Hee. It's like, maybe I do? And maybe I do. But of course, remember how I said it's fated that if I see him, I'll look fugly? Right. The weather finally decided to act like it's Oregon up in here, and the windy, drizzly rain did a number on my hair during my walk to the bus before work. It was a lost cause for the rest of the night. Plus, I need to go to my stylist, and have it thinned again, because the POOF!iness is coming back with a vengeance. Le sigh. Ooh, but guess what? He knew my name! Squeal! Hee. That probably shouldn't get me all excited, huh? Well, too bad, it does!
He came up to me in misses, all "Rachael?" (squeal!) "Did you see Betty fall, the other night?" (this old cashier fell by the cashwrap, and anytime someone injures themselves in some way, they have to let AP know, and my lovah is with AP) and I was like "Oh! Yes, actually. Well, not the fall itself, but I heard it, and turned and saw her on the ground." So, he wanted me to go into the office, and write a "statement" for it. Anyway, on the way there, he was like "Oh, have you seen those, yet? *pointing at new shopping carts we have*" and I was like "Heh, yes. Classy!" and he was all "Makes me feel like I'm working at Target." Oh, damn, I just realized I could've been all "Ohh, you mean Tar-gay" (with the g like a soft j, all French-y), like I usually say it. Hee. You know, like to make Target sound all upper class. It's not Tar-get, it's Tar-jay!" Ah, well.
Right, so that was our conversation. Hee. I like how I'm all "We TALKED!" over that. Like, I say it, and people all around town pop their heads out of their windows and doors (like in a musical or some shit) and go "They talked! Did you hear it? They talked! They talked, they talked, they talked!" and then guys on stilts come out, and a parade starts. HA!
Or, you know, not. Whichever. Hee. When I was in the office, he was all teasing Shaundra (who's married, so it's all good. Hee. Otherwise I'd be all about the jealousy) about what hours she'd work, like "No, Shaundra, sorry, you don't get to go home. You just have to work here, every day." and she was all "For free." and he was like "Yes." Hee. *sighs dreamily*
I like how when you have a crush, every little thing is just soooo great, about them. He could walk up to me, and be all "Sometimes I like to pick my nose, and eat the booger" and I'd probably be like "Oh my God, you're soooo honest! Sigh. You're so amazing." Heh. He's a beautiful, gorgeous man. And he needs to FALL IN LOVE WITH ME, DAMN'T! Of course I'm not really that great looking. And he probably has a girlfriend. *cries*
That reminds me of the guy I used to work with at Shitbuster, who I had this massive crush on. I found out he had a girlfriend, and was crushed. Then found out he proposed to her, and was like "Right, knife to the heart! Good times!" They got married last year. Lucky bitch. Heh, but I'm not jealous or anything! Both of them dress kind of similar. And both are Asian-ish, actually. Although Shitbuster Hottie was like half Mexican, half hmm, Korean, maybe? I can't remember now. He had the most gorgeous eyes, and complexion, though. But, yes, both dress really well. Which is a total attraction factor for me, I admit. Shitbuster Hottie loved to shop, I'd see him at the mall all the time. It was fun. Heh. (he worked at the Gap, after quitting. Which was great, because then I got the hook-up on employee discounts there!) My current lovah usually wears great looking slacks, and mmm-mmm good sweaters. Hee. Both of them had/have cute hair, too. He's even more fit, though. Like fate is all "I don't think we tortured her enough in the past. Let's put this sexy son of a bitch in front of her, and watch her suffer. Sounds like a plan!" I was way more friendly with my Shitbuster lovah, though. Since we worked closely together, all the time. He was so much fun to work with. I loved his ass. Figuratively, and literally. Hee.
You know, why can't he just like, be madly in love with me? Really. I mean, I'm almost 21 now. Would it be too much to ask for me to get a boyfriend or some hot sexin' before I'm like 30, fate? Chop, chop! Let's get on the ball, here! Jeez.
Anyway. Heh. Writing the "statement" in front of him was kind of hard. I mean, it would've been hard with anyone standing there watching me, doubly so because it was writing a bunch and signing my name at the bottom, with them standing there totally observing. But more so, because it was my babydaddy. I did it, though. But my signature was kind of quick, and *gasp* messy. Heh. The horror! (making fun of myself, here, with my oh, so subtle wit) All joking aside, though, *shudder*. I guess that means I really probably could write a whole check now, if I wanted. I mean, certainly if I prepared. That was sudden, and just as much writing/signing involved, with someone whose opinion of me I care about watching, to boot. And yet? Still scared to write a check. I'm such a weirdo. But it's okay. I'll get there, eventually.
Oh yeah, and I saw my schedule today, for next week. All six-hour shifts. Aww yeah, baby. That's right. Peppy knows not to mess with this! She learned that she bettah chickity, chikity, check herself, before she wiggety, wiggety, wrecks herself!
Troll, chillin' in a pair of lederhozen: This is why The Project was set in motion, my friends. If you join our side, you can have your revenge!
Feet: Oh, well, I don't know. She did ask for that foot massager last Christmas. . .
Troll: And how many times has she used it? Hmm?
Feet: Uh, once?
Troll: Thank you. She doesn't deserve you two. All you do is work, work, work for her. And what do you get in return? Pain! Fight the power, feet! Fight the power that be!
Feet: *look at each other, and nod* We're in.
You know, if my body is going to conspire against me like that, the least it could do is wait till I'm asleep or something! I can hear you, guys! Hee.
Um, right, anyway. The feet are not pleased. Neither are the thighs, or the calves for that matter. Ow, ow, and ow.
My tastebuds, however, are pleased with me, and are currently shooting smug grins at the rest of my body. Mom bought me a cookies 'n cream milkshake at Baskin Robbins, tonight. She left it in the freezer though, so it's kind of a frozen milkshake. Hee. But it's slowly melting, and it still tastes the same, just colder. So it's all good.
We were two people short tonight (one called in sick, and the other no-showed, oh and Rosa quit. Again. For sure this time, I guess) so I had to go upstairs. Yuck. It is just so insanely trashed up there, there aren't even words. Every rack is messed up. And the racks are all full to the brim, and close together, and ugh. And the intimate apparels/pajamas/maternity area that I used to work in, makes me weep now. So neglected! They used to call me Panty Girl up there, because I'd make the panty tables all perfect and everything, and now? *shakes head* Let's not even discuss it. And the bras are just no. Heh. Just NO.
So, yeah, I spent most of my night trying in vain to clean. But you could spend a week straight up there, and still not have it all finished. It's just crazy. At least they didn't keep us there past midnight though.
Oh, and I saw my lovah tonight. And actually talked to him! Have I mentioned lately that I want to marry him and bear his children? Hee. It's like, maybe I do? And maybe I do. But of course, remember how I said it's fated that if I see him, I'll look fugly? Right. The weather finally decided to act like it's Oregon up in here, and the windy, drizzly rain did a number on my hair during my walk to the bus before work. It was a lost cause for the rest of the night. Plus, I need to go to my stylist, and have it thinned again, because the POOF!iness is coming back with a vengeance. Le sigh. Ooh, but guess what? He knew my name! Squeal! Hee. That probably shouldn't get me all excited, huh? Well, too bad, it does!
He came up to me in misses, all "Rachael?" (squeal!) "Did you see Betty fall, the other night?" (this old cashier fell by the cashwrap, and anytime someone injures themselves in some way, they have to let AP know, and my lovah is with AP) and I was like "Oh! Yes, actually. Well, not the fall itself, but I heard it, and turned and saw her on the ground." So, he wanted me to go into the office, and write a "statement" for it. Anyway, on the way there, he was like "Oh, have you seen those, yet? *pointing at new shopping carts we have*" and I was like "Heh, yes. Classy!" and he was all "Makes me feel like I'm working at Target." Oh, damn, I just realized I could've been all "Ohh, you mean Tar-gay" (with the g like a soft j, all French-y), like I usually say it. Hee. You know, like to make Target sound all upper class. It's not Tar-get, it's Tar-jay!" Ah, well.
Right, so that was our conversation. Hee. I like how I'm all "We TALKED!" over that. Like, I say it, and people all around town pop their heads out of their windows and doors (like in a musical or some shit) and go "They talked! Did you hear it? They talked! They talked, they talked, they talked!" and then guys on stilts come out, and a parade starts. HA!
Or, you know, not. Whichever. Hee. When I was in the office, he was all teasing Shaundra (who's married, so it's all good. Hee. Otherwise I'd be all about the jealousy) about what hours she'd work, like "No, Shaundra, sorry, you don't get to go home. You just have to work here, every day." and she was all "For free." and he was like "Yes." Hee. *sighs dreamily*
I like how when you have a crush, every little thing is just soooo great, about them. He could walk up to me, and be all "Sometimes I like to pick my nose, and eat the booger" and I'd probably be like "Oh my God, you're soooo honest! Sigh. You're so amazing." Heh. He's a beautiful, gorgeous man. And he needs to FALL IN LOVE WITH ME, DAMN'T! Of course I'm not really that great looking. And he probably has a girlfriend. *cries*
That reminds me of the guy I used to work with at Shitbuster, who I had this massive crush on. I found out he had a girlfriend, and was crushed. Then found out he proposed to her, and was like "Right, knife to the heart! Good times!" They got married last year. Lucky bitch. Heh, but I'm not jealous or anything! Both of them dress kind of similar. And both are Asian-ish, actually. Although Shitbuster Hottie was like half Mexican, half hmm, Korean, maybe? I can't remember now. He had the most gorgeous eyes, and complexion, though. But, yes, both dress really well. Which is a total attraction factor for me, I admit. Shitbuster Hottie loved to shop, I'd see him at the mall all the time. It was fun. Heh. (he worked at the Gap, after quitting. Which was great, because then I got the hook-up on employee discounts there!) My current lovah usually wears great looking slacks, and mmm-mmm good sweaters. Hee. Both of them had/have cute hair, too. He's even more fit, though. Like fate is all "I don't think we tortured her enough in the past. Let's put this sexy son of a bitch in front of her, and watch her suffer. Sounds like a plan!" I was way more friendly with my Shitbuster lovah, though. Since we worked closely together, all the time. He was so much fun to work with. I loved his ass. Figuratively, and literally. Hee.
You know, why can't he just like, be madly in love with me? Really. I mean, I'm almost 21 now. Would it be too much to ask for me to get a boyfriend or some hot sexin' before I'm like 30, fate? Chop, chop! Let's get on the ball, here! Jeez.
Anyway. Heh. Writing the "statement" in front of him was kind of hard. I mean, it would've been hard with anyone standing there watching me, doubly so because it was writing a bunch and signing my name at the bottom, with them standing there totally observing. But more so, because it was my babydaddy. I did it, though. But my signature was kind of quick, and *gasp* messy. Heh. The horror! (making fun of myself, here, with my oh, so subtle wit) All joking aside, though, *shudder*. I guess that means I really probably could write a whole check now, if I wanted. I mean, certainly if I prepared. That was sudden, and just as much writing/signing involved, with someone whose opinion of me I care about watching, to boot. And yet? Still scared to write a check. I'm such a weirdo. But it's okay. I'll get there, eventually.
Oh yeah, and I saw my schedule today, for next week. All six-hour shifts. Aww yeah, baby. That's right. Peppy knows not to mess with this! She learned that she bettah chickity, chikity, check herself, before she wiggety, wiggety, wrecks herself!
