I don't care if the cashier checking me out doesn't greet me, or if the only words they mutter to me is my total. I've been there, I get it--you hate your job, whatever. I do care, however, when they hand me my coins on top of my bills. Biggest. Pet. Peeve. Ever. It's an awkward balancing act that I'm not interested in playing while a line behind me is building up. I don't even pay with cash that often, but when I do it's just horrible. When I cashiered during my high school and college days, I ALWAYS handed the coins back first, then the dollars. I also counted back their change (the dollars, not the coins). No one ever does that anymore. They're just like, "Here's your change." And hand me this wadded mixture of coins and bills that forces me to put down my wallet, pour the change from one hand to the other, dumping them into my zippered coin pocket so I can then stuff the dollars into the billfold. Whew. Quite the process.
I think every store should adopt a "No-Change-on-Top-of-Bills Policy" to optimize their customer's shopping experience. I mean, stores don't want their shoppers to walk out feeling frustrated do they?
Am I overreacting? I've been known to be a little over-dramatic at times...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
I Wish
The other morning I caught myself thinking "I wish" a lot.
I wish it wasn't snowing.
I wish there was coffee already made.
I wish I was skinnier.
I wish my eyes were blue.
I wish these pants had pockets.
I wish Mike didn't have every light in the apartment on. (Well, this one is kind of legit... I have no idea why all the lamps were glowing brightly. Totally unnecessary.)
That morning I didn't think I looked like anything special. My hair was especially flat and limp, my complexion--nothing to write home about and my outfit is my usual work attire. But when I stopped into a co-worker's cube, she told me I looked pretty. She is someone who I have always think of as gorgeous, so it meant a lot that she said that to me, and it really boosted my confidence!
After work I had a hair appointment. I went short. Not like Emma Watson short, but shoulder length short (about five inches were chopped off). This may look like nothing on a ruler, but oh boy! Big change! Back in college I was all about cutting, coloring and styling my hair every which way. I never worried about it; I knew it'd grow back. This hair cut was a huge decision for me, though! I was asking Michael every five minutes if I should really cut it! I really wanted my long hair, but it was so lifeless and spit-endy! The whole reason I wanted long hair was to play with it and style it, but I never did. So my new goal is to care about my hair. Not just straighten it every morning, but to actually style it somehow. Even if it's just some simple volume. I think Stacy and Clinton are right--look good, feel good. I'm going to do my best to gain some confidence! Instead of thinking "I wish," I hope to be happy with what I do have, because I really do have a lot to be thankful for! A few examples include: a loving fiancee, wonderful family (minus Lil--what a bitch) and friends, a pretty apartment, a savings account and a job!
I wish it wasn't snowing.
I wish there was coffee already made.
I wish I was skinnier.
I wish my eyes were blue.
I wish these pants had pockets.
I wish Mike didn't have every light in the apartment on. (Well, this one is kind of legit... I have no idea why all the lamps were glowing brightly. Totally unnecessary.)
That morning I didn't think I looked like anything special. My hair was especially flat and limp, my complexion--nothing to write home about and my outfit is my usual work attire. But when I stopped into a co-worker's cube, she told me I looked pretty. She is someone who I have always think of as gorgeous, so it meant a lot that she said that to me, and it really boosted my confidence!
After work I had a hair appointment. I went short. Not like Emma Watson short, but shoulder length short (about five inches were chopped off). This may look like nothing on a ruler, but oh boy! Big change! Back in college I was all about cutting, coloring and styling my hair every which way. I never worried about it; I knew it'd grow back. This hair cut was a huge decision for me, though! I was asking Michael every five minutes if I should really cut it! I really wanted my long hair, but it was so lifeless and spit-endy! The whole reason I wanted long hair was to play with it and style it, but I never did. So my new goal is to care about my hair. Not just straighten it every morning, but to actually style it somehow. Even if it's just some simple volume. I think Stacy and Clinton are right--look good, feel good. I'm going to do my best to gain some confidence! Instead of thinking "I wish," I hope to be happy with what I do have, because I really do have a lot to be thankful for! A few examples include: a loving fiancee, wonderful family (minus Lil--what a bitch) and friends, a pretty apartment, a savings account and a job!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Woes of a Temp
I am grateful that I have a job, and most of the time I don't feel like a temporary employee, but lately this hasn't been the case. Besides always missing out on normal perks, like vacation, 401K, etc. I miss out on the cool, every day deals. For instance, to support sustainability, the company provided fancy Nalgene water bottles to its employees. Do I get one? Nope. Am I really jealous of a water bottle? Yup. Us temps also miss out on the same corporate emails every one else gets, so I had no idea we could wear Green Bay Packer attire today--including hoodies! Huge bummer for me, since that's my go-to apparel!
Being a temp also means dealing with the staffing agency. Before this position, I've never worked with one. In fact, when I got hired, I had no idea that my employer would be the staffing agency; I thought the role of the agency was to simply find companies people for open positions. You can imagine my confusion and shock reading through my "you're hired" paperwork!
While I've only worked with this one staffing agency, I can confidently say there is no one worse than the one I got stuck with. The employees are unprofessional in every way... I'm talking painting nails at the office, using the work place as a daycare for Popsicle-eating cry babies and never knowing answers to anything. They do not properly communicate with us about changes or, for instance, our checks not getting deposited. Even though they knew us direct depositers were not receiving our pay, they opted to have us call them in a panic when our bank balance was not what we anticipated. No mass emails, no phone calls to the employees or companies for which we work. Nothing.
Apparently our direct deposit system will be non functioning for the next four to six weeks while they "figure out the new process." I guess they recently switched to a new system. Personally, I would have figured out how to work it BEFORE I began using it, but that's just me. So now our paper checks are either mailed out to you three days later, or hand delivered to our office. But, since I have an odd schedule, I'm only at the office once every three Fridays. To be even more inconvenient, I live about 30 miles away from the staffing agency's office where I could pick up my check myself. I'm thankful I don't live paycheck to paycheck anymore, so that I always have a good chuck of money on reserve, but I still find it incredibly annoying. Mainly because it's them, and I had already decided to hate them months ago.
Being a temp also means dealing with the staffing agency. Before this position, I've never worked with one. In fact, when I got hired, I had no idea that my employer would be the staffing agency; I thought the role of the agency was to simply find companies people for open positions. You can imagine my confusion and shock reading through my "you're hired" paperwork!
While I've only worked with this one staffing agency, I can confidently say there is no one worse than the one I got stuck with. The employees are unprofessional in every way... I'm talking painting nails at the office, using the work place as a daycare for Popsicle-eating cry babies and never knowing answers to anything. They do not properly communicate with us about changes or, for instance, our checks not getting deposited. Even though they knew us direct depositers were not receiving our pay, they opted to have us call them in a panic when our bank balance was not what we anticipated. No mass emails, no phone calls to the employees or companies for which we work. Nothing.
Apparently our direct deposit system will be non functioning for the next four to six weeks while they "figure out the new process." I guess they recently switched to a new system. Personally, I would have figured out how to work it BEFORE I began using it, but that's just me. So now our paper checks are either mailed out to you three days later, or hand delivered to our office. But, since I have an odd schedule, I'm only at the office once every three Fridays. To be even more inconvenient, I live about 30 miles away from the staffing agency's office where I could pick up my check myself. I'm thankful I don't live paycheck to paycheck anymore, so that I always have a good chuck of money on reserve, but I still find it incredibly annoying. Mainly because it's them, and I had already decided to hate them months ago.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Celebrity Slimdowns
I turned on the TV today, and E! was playing a special called Celebrity Slimdowns. I decided to keep watching it, and it really made me feel a lot better about my weight. How impressionable am I?!
It was nice to know that skinny famous people have had to loosen their belts at least once in their lives. To know that they felt what it's like to battle the bulge(s), and how it makes you feel like dirt. Of course none of them have real jobs with real schedules, and had all the time in the world to work out with their expensive personal trainers and dieticians. But, it has motivated me to continue to watch what I eat, and work out if I can. All it takes is some hard work and portion control (and patience). It's not hard. It's not hard. It's not hard. It's doable. It's doable. It's doable.
Hopefully I'll still have this fire lit tomorrow when I'm not working, and can actually go to the YMCA for a good workout. If history has taught me anything, it's that it's not likely. I always manage to crave some cardio when I'm unable to do it! Maybe it's subconscious, so that I can use the "I never have time to work out" excuse.
It was nice to know that skinny famous people have had to loosen their belts at least once in their lives. To know that they felt what it's like to battle the bulge(s), and how it makes you feel like dirt. Of course none of them have real jobs with real schedules, and had all the time in the world to work out with their expensive personal trainers and dieticians. But, it has motivated me to continue to watch what I eat, and work out if I can. All it takes is some hard work and portion control (and patience). It's not hard. It's not hard. It's not hard. It's doable. It's doable. It's doable.
Hopefully I'll still have this fire lit tomorrow when I'm not working, and can actually go to the YMCA for a good workout. If history has taught me anything, it's that it's not likely. I always manage to crave some cardio when I'm unable to do it! Maybe it's subconscious, so that I can use the "I never have time to work out" excuse.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Le Sigh: Bad karma as a result of gift gifting.
Have you ever given a gift to a little kid that you know will make them delighted, but drive their parents nuts? Well, I now know what it's like to be the parent of the child who receives a drum set for Christmas. No, I don't have children, but I do have my fiancé, Michael...
This year for Christmas I gave my 3-year-old sister, Claire, a rather large princess castle tent that my dad wasn't too pleased with, since the TV and/or all pathways are blocked by its presence. I'm sure I've given just as obnoxious gifts to my brothers over the years, but this year Dad got me back--and he doesn't even know it!
Last year my brothers received remote controlled helicopters as gifts, and Michael was having a blast flying them around. So, this year my dad felt it necessary to give him one. I laughed, thinking it was funny he remembered the good time Mike had with them... Until I got home. It has this loud, constant hum when in flight that drives me up the wall. I tolerate it for as long as I can by closing the doors, turning up the TV and trying to focus on anything else, but all I hear is that damn hum. Of course I'm just the fun-hater, not wanting him to enjoy his toy!
I finally found bubble bath, and was so excited to sit in the tub and relax. But, as soon as I settled in, Michael started flying his helicopter! I called out, pleading with him to hold off until after my bath. But could he? No. His solution? He opened the bathroom door, stuck his hand around the corner and flipped the switch that controls the LOUD exhaust fan. Are you kidding me?! So I couldn't relax in my bubble bath that I've been craving for years, because I now had two obnoxious noises driving me crazy. How unfair is this?
This year for Christmas I gave my 3-year-old sister, Claire, a rather large princess castle tent that my dad wasn't too pleased with, since the TV and/or all pathways are blocked by its presence. I'm sure I've given just as obnoxious gifts to my brothers over the years, but this year Dad got me back--and he doesn't even know it!
Last year my brothers received remote controlled helicopters as gifts, and Michael was having a blast flying them around. So, this year my dad felt it necessary to give him one. I laughed, thinking it was funny he remembered the good time Mike had with them... Until I got home. It has this loud, constant hum when in flight that drives me up the wall. I tolerate it for as long as I can by closing the doors, turning up the TV and trying to focus on anything else, but all I hear is that damn hum. Of course I'm just the fun-hater, not wanting him to enjoy his toy!
I finally found bubble bath, and was so excited to sit in the tub and relax. But, as soon as I settled in, Michael started flying his helicopter! I called out, pleading with him to hold off until after my bath. But could he? No. His solution? He opened the bathroom door, stuck his hand around the corner and flipped the switch that controls the LOUD exhaust fan. Are you kidding me?! So I couldn't relax in my bubble bath that I've been craving for years, because I now had two obnoxious noises driving me crazy. How unfair is this?
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