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Dec. 17th, 2002 01:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rachg82Remember how my cat did this thing while Joe's uncle was staying with us, where she'd want out all the time, and stay out for days on end, not eating? She's doing it again. A few months ago, my Mom and I took her to the vet, but we weren't able to pay for the thyroid medicine she needed then. We figured out a way though, and Mom brought her back again last week (they had to do the bloodwork all over again), and now she fucking won't come home so we can't even give it to her. Meanwhile she's six pounds, when she used to be twenty five. Six! And she was eating like three cans of kitty food a day. She wasn't this thin before, it was gradual. It's just recently that we were like "Dude, Tabbers is skinny. What happenned? She's eating all the damn time, how is she so thin?" Then we found out it was her thyroid, but she was still acting normal, and we thought she was okay. And finally we can give her the medication to get better, but we can't, because she won't come home! Fuck!
My Mom and I are worried she wanted out so badly because they say cats go off by themselves, when they're dying. And, like, I know she's seventeen years old. I know she's had a good little kitty life, full of love, but damn't, she can't go and die on us now! Especially since I'd totally feel like it was our fault; we should've been able to get the medication sooner. We tried though. We got this pet insurance and everything, but then it turned out to be kind of worthless. Still, though. God damn't. Mom's all depressed over it, too. She seemed better in the car, when she was driving me to work, but earlier in the day, she was just lying in bed and crying. I feel like crying over it, too. I got home, and Mom had done something with her food dish. I guess she really doesn't think Tabitha's coming back, even though she did last time, and it's just been a day and a half. But she needs her medicine. This is not the right time for her to be going all AWOL on us. I mean, if she is okay, then where the Hell is she? It's been raining like Hell, the last few days. Seeing the empty spot where her food-dish is supposed to be, and standing outside, calling her, just for her to not show up, ugh. It's upsetting.
Period moodiness, I guess. I don't know. Peppy sent me upstairs again tonight, and it was just me and Tyler up there. Tyler's a nice guy, but he doesn't work very hard. And they told him to do home fashions all night. Rick and I were talking about what bullshit that is, on the way home. They should have a person spend thirty minutes, tops, in home fashions, especially when there's only two people on the floor. And it should look fucking perfect after that thirty minutes, too. Or damn near close. Yet they'll put a person in that area all night, just so they can stand around and not face things properly, while I take care of the whole rest of the motherfucking floor by myself. I mean, Tyler didn't stay there all night, thankfully, he did come out and help with fitting rooms a little. He's not nearly as bad as Asshole was, considering it was a similar situation. But he certainly wasn't that much help.
And, really, Peppy put me up there, all acting like I was supposed to be making the floor look great, when every rack up there is fucked up. Give me a break. I wouldn't mind it if she were like "Just do the best you can, I know you can't be making that floor look up to standards in six hours, by yourself" or if she scheduled enough people so that I could really concentrate on cleaning. And she wasn't totally pushy about it, but still, it was frustrating. Because everytime I'd try and start on something, they'd fucking page me to the cashwrap, or the phone would ring, or there'd be put aways to work on. There's just no way to organize ANYTHING, when you're up there, dealing with all that. The only thing I actually got done was facing the toys in infants, getting stuff off the floor, folding a table or two, and sizing the folded jeans in the girl's department. Plus put aways, and customers, of course. But I just hate working there all night, and having it barely look like I was even up there at the end of it. Made me cranky as Hell.
At least they didn't keep us there past midnight, though. They really could've, too. I heard Peppy say to this other manager on the phone something like "The floor is pretty messy, but let's just deal with blah blah blah. . .they need a break." I appreciated that. Especially tonight, when I really did need a break. Heh. Plus, I spent some time on the panty tables in intimates around the time of closing, sizing them and working my Panty Girl magic, and Peppy walked by them later (I know she'd seen me working on them), and said to everyone "Look how good these tables look." Aw, yeah. Recognition like a mofo.
I saw that guy at CrapDonalds again, today. He came in when I was a few minutes away from leaving, though. He was all "I've had the day from Hell!" and I was like "Me too!" and he asked "How's your day from Hell been?" and I said "annoying" and he was like "Well, my day involved getting into a car accident on the way to work. I tore a muscle in my neck, and now I have to close tonight." and I was like "You win!" Hee. Yeah, I'd say that wins the "Day From Hell" award.
I think there was something in the air too, everyone I talked to today said they'd been having a rough day. I talked to this cashier who I've talked with a few times before, when I was getting back from my lunch, and she was telling me about how pissy the customers were in hardware today. That people are getting much more impatient and everything, and she thinks it's because Christmas is getting closer and closer, so people are all rushed and irritable. I think that's a fair assessment, since a lot of the customers I've been dealing with the last two days or so are people shopping for gifts that they "have to get today" or whatever. And they're all impatient with me, and stressed out acting. I saw this guy like flip out at the cashier at CrapDonalds, too. Apparently he didn't get his change. And hey, that sucks, but God, chill. I may have been in a cranky ass mood today, but I at least made an attempt not to take it out on other people. "Most wonderful time of year", my ass. Heh. Okay, so that's a little more bah humbug sounding than I really feel, but the holidays can be stressful. Sometimes I think all the hoopla we make of it, with the expectations and everything, just makes it worse. I mean, yeah, Christmas is nice and all, but right now, I wouldn't mind a little summer action. A Christmas gift of not having to deal with all the drama of Christmas. It's a nice season, but the most wonderful? Bah humbug.
The lights are pretty, though. Hee. Aw, I swear I'm not really a grinch, but the holidays this year just really aren't going that wonderfully, around here. My 21st birthday is in January too, and whoopdeedoo. I don't even have friends to go out and celebrate with. My sister and I were planning on going out and getting trashed, but uh, recent developments pretty much ensure it would be a one-sided deal. So, what, my birthday might be my moody, pregnant sister watching me get tipsy? How cheerful. Meh, whatever. Just another "big occasion" in my life that's going to pass by without much excitement. Which would be fine, if it were by choice. But I don't have the option of painting the town red with friends on my birthday. So it's just this big, fat reminder of how alone I am. Whoo, Happy Birthday to me.
My Mom and I are worried she wanted out so badly because they say cats go off by themselves, when they're dying. And, like, I know she's seventeen years old. I know she's had a good little kitty life, full of love, but damn't, she can't go and die on us now! Especially since I'd totally feel like it was our fault; we should've been able to get the medication sooner. We tried though. We got this pet insurance and everything, but then it turned out to be kind of worthless. Still, though. God damn't. Mom's all depressed over it, too. She seemed better in the car, when she was driving me to work, but earlier in the day, she was just lying in bed and crying. I feel like crying over it, too. I got home, and Mom had done something with her food dish. I guess she really doesn't think Tabitha's coming back, even though she did last time, and it's just been a day and a half. But she needs her medicine. This is not the right time for her to be going all AWOL on us. I mean, if she is okay, then where the Hell is she? It's been raining like Hell, the last few days. Seeing the empty spot where her food-dish is supposed to be, and standing outside, calling her, just for her to not show up, ugh. It's upsetting.
Period moodiness, I guess. I don't know. Peppy sent me upstairs again tonight, and it was just me and Tyler up there. Tyler's a nice guy, but he doesn't work very hard. And they told him to do home fashions all night. Rick and I were talking about what bullshit that is, on the way home. They should have a person spend thirty minutes, tops, in home fashions, especially when there's only two people on the floor. And it should look fucking perfect after that thirty minutes, too. Or damn near close. Yet they'll put a person in that area all night, just so they can stand around and not face things properly, while I take care of the whole rest of the motherfucking floor by myself. I mean, Tyler didn't stay there all night, thankfully, he did come out and help with fitting rooms a little. He's not nearly as bad as Asshole was, considering it was a similar situation. But he certainly wasn't that much help.
And, really, Peppy put me up there, all acting like I was supposed to be making the floor look great, when every rack up there is fucked up. Give me a break. I wouldn't mind it if she were like "Just do the best you can, I know you can't be making that floor look up to standards in six hours, by yourself" or if she scheduled enough people so that I could really concentrate on cleaning. And she wasn't totally pushy about it, but still, it was frustrating. Because everytime I'd try and start on something, they'd fucking page me to the cashwrap, or the phone would ring, or there'd be put aways to work on. There's just no way to organize ANYTHING, when you're up there, dealing with all that. The only thing I actually got done was facing the toys in infants, getting stuff off the floor, folding a table or two, and sizing the folded jeans in the girl's department. Plus put aways, and customers, of course. But I just hate working there all night, and having it barely look like I was even up there at the end of it. Made me cranky as Hell.
At least they didn't keep us there past midnight, though. They really could've, too. I heard Peppy say to this other manager on the phone something like "The floor is pretty messy, but let's just deal with blah blah blah. . .they need a break." I appreciated that. Especially tonight, when I really did need a break. Heh. Plus, I spent some time on the panty tables in intimates around the time of closing, sizing them and working my Panty Girl magic, and Peppy walked by them later (I know she'd seen me working on them), and said to everyone "Look how good these tables look." Aw, yeah. Recognition like a mofo.
I saw that guy at CrapDonalds again, today. He came in when I was a few minutes away from leaving, though. He was all "I've had the day from Hell!" and I was like "Me too!" and he asked "How's your day from Hell been?" and I said "annoying" and he was like "Well, my day involved getting into a car accident on the way to work. I tore a muscle in my neck, and now I have to close tonight." and I was like "You win!" Hee. Yeah, I'd say that wins the "Day From Hell" award.
I think there was something in the air too, everyone I talked to today said they'd been having a rough day. I talked to this cashier who I've talked with a few times before, when I was getting back from my lunch, and she was telling me about how pissy the customers were in hardware today. That people are getting much more impatient and everything, and she thinks it's because Christmas is getting closer and closer, so people are all rushed and irritable. I think that's a fair assessment, since a lot of the customers I've been dealing with the last two days or so are people shopping for gifts that they "have to get today" or whatever. And they're all impatient with me, and stressed out acting. I saw this guy like flip out at the cashier at CrapDonalds, too. Apparently he didn't get his change. And hey, that sucks, but God, chill. I may have been in a cranky ass mood today, but I at least made an attempt not to take it out on other people. "Most wonderful time of year", my ass. Heh. Okay, so that's a little more bah humbug sounding than I really feel, but the holidays can be stressful. Sometimes I think all the hoopla we make of it, with the expectations and everything, just makes it worse. I mean, yeah, Christmas is nice and all, but right now, I wouldn't mind a little summer action. A Christmas gift of not having to deal with all the drama of Christmas. It's a nice season, but the most wonderful? Bah humbug.
The lights are pretty, though. Hee. Aw, I swear I'm not really a grinch, but the holidays this year just really aren't going that wonderfully, around here. My 21st birthday is in January too, and whoopdeedoo. I don't even have friends to go out and celebrate with. My sister and I were planning on going out and getting trashed, but uh, recent developments pretty much ensure it would be a one-sided deal. So, what, my birthday might be my moody, pregnant sister watching me get tipsy? How cheerful. Meh, whatever. Just another "big occasion" in my life that's going to pass by without much excitement. Which would be fine, if it were by choice. But I don't have the option of painting the town red with friends on my birthday. So it's just this big, fat reminder of how alone I am. Whoo, Happy Birthday to me.
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Date: 2002-12-17 12:14 pm (UTC)I hope Tabitha's okay.