It starts this morning with a not-so-little thing. I open the door to leave for work and I find a three day notice on my door, claiming that it was posted yesterday but I certainly didn't lay eyes on it till this morning. Wonderful. I wanted to talk to the manager about my rent yesterday, but I had enough trouble just cashing the check so I could pay half of it and explain when she can expect the other half. But no, she can't even wait for me to do that. Gotta demand payment in full, with late fee, within three days. Great.
Well, can't do anything about that first thing in the morning... except to keep working so I can eventually pay. So I traipse in to work with my friend. I help him with some projects at the local base commissary, mostly stocking chicken and turkey products.
The poultry shelves were demolished again as per usual, but that sight actually brings me joy. It's part of the evidence that I'm actually doing something worthwhile in all of this: serving the people who serve my country. This is part of my actual job. What gets me down is all the junk I have to put up with that isn't part of my actual job... like reorganizing inventory for the management's convenience. That was yesterday's circus event.
Or like fifty gazillion vendor stockers dragging gargantuan over stacked pallets of product and all of them trying to use the same corridor at the same time. I've never seen this fiasco before, but I suppose it's got something to do with being the day after a major inventory. They let their stock run low so there's less to manage during the count. Now they're scrambling to stock back up again and get on with business as usual. The problem is this: they're all using the tiny stretch of hallway that the meat cooler is attached to. I have to pull *my* stock outta there and they're all in my way.
Wonderful. They've got two pallet jacks and a small cart full of cardboard someone didn't bother to take out, all parked right where my carts need to be. Great. I can't park the cart with my sanitizer water in the usual spot, because somebody pushes it outta the way to drag another over stacked pallet through. Gah. Fine. Whatever.
Yep. Sure could use some of that serial optimism. Hey, at least my friend is the one in the cooler re-palletizing the junk I had to offload into the Draper Valley section. Let him do the heavy lifting while I do the stuff I'm actually getting paid to do.
Now, if I could just figure out a way to get paid for putting up with all those clueless stockers getting in my way, I'd be a very happy man today.
Hey, that's optimism, right?
:)
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