Wednesday, October 03, 2007
three simple words.
I make things so hard! What's so hard about writing a blog entry? It's just stuff. Not important stuff, just stuff. A boring journal of one of the billions of lives on this planet, so whenever I feel that doing this or that is useless, I need to remember that as long as I must do something, I might as well be doing this--or that. And sometimes I feel as though I've been misplaced--am I supposed to be here? Did someone lose me, leave me behind in the wrong universe, so that I feel forever out of place? Does everyone feel this way? And what in the name of Sam Hill am I doing with this feather? It's not mine, I never touched those peacocks down at the Lindo, and there are none around here. It's the only evidence I have that I have been misplaced.
Life is such a mystery. Maybe Bone will sort things out.
Work stuff: My supervisor's supervisor just gave his two week notice. Apparently, he's taking a job with Toyland! Wow, bloody traitor. They must've given him great incentive, to walk away from the maximum severance (that's why most of us are hanging on until the ugly end: the generous severance).
Of course, rumors are running the gamut, all over the place, up the walls, and around town. I am sick of all the speculation. As usual, management is flying by the seat of their pants, so there is no point in guessing.
Good news: Tinkerbell has to transfer back to Sister Warehouse, starting next week! A typical morning in the crappy jewelry department starts with Tinkerbell, her butt poised in a comfy chair, holding court with her coworkers, letting them in on everything that goes on in her life. I'm one of the last to arrive, and I always walk in to see people standing around her chair, all looking and listening to Tinkerbell. It's really weird.
This morning was wilder than usual:
Tinkerbell: So, Cindy calls me a two-timing, back-stabbing, lying- cheating-bitch, and a whore!
She always yells. Talking isn't even considered. And I'm appalled, just appalled, that Tinkerbell's best friend isn't always happy to be her friend.
heh. I know, I know, her leaving won't make things perfect, but they sure will be a lot quieter. It will be a belch-free zone!
Wait--I wrote a blog entry. How 'bout that...