Happy Birthday to Me

Here I am, 37 years old and not really feeling that much different. I still have occasional dreams of being in high school even though I graduated from college ten years ago. Every now and then I dream that I've somehow gone back to college and I can't remember which courses I'm scheduled for.

Overall, I had a pretty good day. Having my mom home from the hospital and doing so well is a present in itself. 

My niece Lizzie spent the night with us last night, I had a nice morning walk around the park with my headphones, I got to go on a little trip to our local mall (I can hardly remember the last time I've set foot in that place) and we bought a few goodies from Bath & Body Works, we came home for a nice lunch, I relaxed with more music while Mom shopped some more, Christine eventually swung by with my youngest nephew Lucas (Josh and Spencer chose to stay home and Spencer's birthday happens to be tomorrow), and we had dinner at Chick-fil-A. 

My birthday cake came from my workplace. I asked for the smallest cake we had, a chocolate strawberry one with vanilla mousse, and to my surprise, it was already paid for. Guess that's their little present to me, I sure can't complain about free cake, and I also got to take home a free pastry; I chose one of our tasty mini raspberry tarts. Ice cream was Rocky Road and plain vanilla. Turned out Mom was allowed to have a little cake and ice cream, and Chick-fil-A is a fairly diabetic-friendly place. Mom loves their chicken salads and I had a very nice grilled chicken sandwich, though I opted for a medium combo instead of the large like I used to. It felt a little strange eating fries and drinking soda again, but it was kind of nice, too. Mom had Coke Zero while I had Cherry Coke. 

Besides the B&BW stuff, my other presents mainly consisted of clothes. Since I'm losing weight, my old clothes are starting to feel baggier, so I got new jeans and a nice new shirt. 

The cake was quite rich, so we only had a small amount as well as a small amount of ice cream. Christine helped to serve up, and that's about it. 

Like I said, a nice day on the whole. Happy birthday to me, and happy birthday to Spencer tomorrow!

Birthday, Anniversary, and Eclipse

Happy birthday to my dad, happy work anniversary to me (I started my job this very day five years ago), and of course, happy Solar Eclipse!

Christmas Entitlement

Geez, what is it about the holidays that makes certain people forget their manners, forget that they're talking to another human being, forget that they can't always get what they want when they want it? At least whiny kids have the excuse of being kids, which means they're still maturing and really don't know any better.

And then we have grown men and women who should know better, and yet there's something just plain wrong in that head of theirs this time of year. It happens every single year without fail, and it boggles my mind every single time.

Man, if I had a dollar for every time I've been asked this week alone, "Do you have any more sweet breads? When are you going to get more? Do you have any more cookies in the back? Will there be some tomorrow? Can I buy that gift basket that's already reserved for someone else?"

Which, I suppose, are fair questions. But for goodness' sake, people, this is Christmas we're talking about. What did you expect? Of course, we're going to be clean out of breads, gift baskets, cookies, and all that fun stuff in no time. As a cashier, I can't make any solid guarantees for next time, and besides, if you placed an order ahead of time instead of trying your luck at random, the odds would be a bit more in your favor, wouldn't they?

If you come into the store, you might get some. If you order ahead, it's much more likely that you will get some. You already had at least a month to order all this stuff. Yet, for some people, it's only during the last week that they realize, "Oh, I better hurry and buy some! I gotta get moving!"

One lady had the nerve to ask if we would be open on Christmas Eve so she could buy rolls that very day. And we're closed on Christmas Eve, because we're closed on Sundays. A couple of people even asked me if we'd be open on Christmas Day itself.

I get it: I'm guilty of procrastination, too, and to forget is natural. I understand you want your food as fresh as possible, though I don't think a day or two will do you or your guests any real harm, especially if you store the food properly.

But even so, you don't have to get nasty about it and take it out on us, who are simply doing our jobs and trying to get through this holiday hype in one piece. We've got enough work and stress without an entitled jerk adding to the pile. It's not our fault you put it off so long and we don't owe you any favors.

Furthermore, while I will admit food is important, will a certain cake or bread or cookie or gift basket truly make or break your holiday? Seems to me you entitled few are forgetting what Christmas is really all about, or you just don't care.

What burns me up the most is when people can see darn well how busy we are, they can see with their own eyes how crowded it is, they know for a fact Christmas is less than a week away, and they still have the nerve to complain to our faces about how long they have to wait. At least they only have to wait; they're not the ones scurrying around, putting all the orders together, so it's easy for them to talk.

I may be used to this kind of craziness. It's nothing I really can't handle...but this kind of behavior never ceases to astound me.

As that song goes, "Why you gotta be so rude? Don't you know I'm human, too?"

Happy Birthday (and Anniversary)

When I get older, losing my hair,
Many years from now,
Will you still be sending me a valentine?
Birthday greetings, bottle of wine?

If I'd been out till quarter to three,
Would you lock the door?
Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four? 

You'll be older too
And if you say the word
I could stay with you

I could be handy, mending a fuse
When your lights have gone
You can knit a sweater by the fireside
Sunday mornings go for a ride 

Doing the garden, digging the weeds
Who could ask for more?
Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four? 

Every summer we can rent a cottage
In the Isle of Wight
If it's not too dear
We shall scrimp and save
Grandchildren on your knee
Vera, Chuck and Dave 

Send me a postcard, drop me a line
Stating point of view
Indicate precisely what you mean to say
Yours sincerely, wasting away 

Give me your answer, fill in a form
Mine forevermore
Will you still need me,
Will you still feed me
When I'm sixty-four?

Happy 64th birthday in heaven, Dad. Love and miss you as much as ever.

On the side, happy anniversary to yours truly. My job at Kneaders Bakery & Cafe began three years ago on this very day. It may not be my dream job, but it's my financial cushion and definitely the best job I've had so far.

The Healing Power of Gratitude - Day 2

Today, I #GiveThanks for my job at Kneaders. It’s definitely the best job I’ve had yet. 

I started out with Deseret Industries, then had a VERY short job (like, one month) at Barnes & Noble, and then I endured two long up-and-down years in the deli of WinCo Foods.  

Kneaders has its challenges, as all jobs do. But like I said, it’s my best job thus far. It’s walkable (so, unless it’s dark or the weather is super bad, transportation is no sweat), I get Sundays off (not to belittle those who do work Sundays, but I’d rather not work that day if I don’t have to), the staff and management are so nice (WAY nicer than WinCo!), it pays well, and best of all, I get a special deal on yummy pastries and desserts! 

 

Dad's Birthday, Kneaders, and Easter

First things first: happy birthday, Dad.

He would have turned 62, and just because he's not here (in the flesh) doesn't mean we can't still celebrate his special day.

We still celebrated Grandpa's birthday on March 31; incidentally, there are exactly 30 years between Dad and Grandpa, and exactly 30 years between Dad and me. That means when I was born, Dad was the big 3-O and Grandpa was the big 6-O.

Since Dad preferred pie to cake, we got a special chocolate strawberry pie from Kneaders.

Speaking of Kneaders, sadly, I am no longer working there...at least, not as long as this "social distancing" keeps up.

No point in keeping an employee that's not even coming in to work, I understand, but it's still a huge bummer. I really liked that job, and today would have marked a full year since I started working there. They said I'm perfectly welcome to come back when this is over, but that's just it: will there even be a job to come back to?

So much going on right now. So much uncertainty. So many possibilities, for good and bad. Can't take all this any longer than a single day at a time.

Again, bummer.

Naturally, with all this free time on my hands, there's plenty of writing and drawing going on. Keeps me from going out of my mind, and if I'm lucky, I'll actually have something ready to publish.

And since Easter is the next major holiday, yes, I've got an Easter unicorn piece. Tried to make it as cheerful and cute as possible. Now that it's finished, even I have to admit it's absolutely adorable:

My Old Boss

Today, one of my former coworkers from my days at WinCo Foods (Ryan) stopped by with his family. Naturally, I had to say hi to him while I took his order, and he told me our old boss from the deli (Ruel) has left the building.

From what I heard, the boss quit of his own accord, but he was on the brink of getting fired anyway. That's the rumor, at least.

Well, I was a bit surprised, but not by much. I was even wondering how much longer the man would last since he was prone to doing things for which we'd get in trouble in a snap. It was almost like a double standard: we can't do it because we're the employees, but he can do it because he's in charge.

I don't want to paint him as a bad guy, but out of all the bosses I've had thus far, he was by far the worst. He was the reason I quit WinCo in the first place.

He wasn't the devil incarnate or anything, but let's just say he was one of those people who probably aren't cut out to be in charge. To summarize, he treated us more like machines than people (working us as hard as possible for as long as possible, and practically breathing down our necks the entire time), he focused much more on what we did wrong than what we did right, he almost never expressed any appreciation for our hard work (I, for one, was lucky to hear a simple "great" from his lips), he would do things for which we'd get written up if we did them, and he promised way more than he delivered; he was more talk than action.

In my case, the straw that broke the camel's back was when he gave me only five or six hours a week (the entire week) while everybody else on the deli team got more, and he got a nice, cushy 40 hours on his plate. I was literally the bottom of the barrel, and he kept promising and promising and promising more hours, for at least six months straight, but nothing happened. Even when I applied for an additional position as a cashier, my luck didn't change.

Talk of more hours still left me and my bills unpaid.

It got to the point where I might as well have not been there at all, so after finding another job elsewhere, I officially threw in the towel. I've a sneaking suspicion they were trying to get me to quit on purpose.

Unfortunately, WinCo does have a high turnover rate. Employees are going as quickly as they're coming, and that's not good for a business in the long run. From what I was told, WinCo doesn't like to hang onto anybody for too long because the longer you work for them, the more they'll have to pay you.

My mom suspects they were discriminating against me, and I could have even taken them to court for it.

As far as I understand, my only real "crime" was not being as fast as they believed I should be. Yes, I knew I shouldn't take all day, but I'm a naturally cautious person and some things do require a little time and care; plus, you shouldn't hurry with things like wet floors and full garbage cans and piping hot trays of food. You want to get the job done right the first time, because fixing it later costs more time, money, and trouble.

Other than that, I did everything else I was supposed to do. I always did my assigned tasks, I never left until the task was done (unless they excused me and had someone else finish it for me), I never complained or talked back, and I was always punctual; I never missed a day of work and only had to leave early once due to throwing up. Sometimes I went a little into overtime (and more than a little) but I figured it was better than having a messy deli the next day. I even did the little important tasks that almost everybody overlooked, including the boss, like checking the temperature of the meat, cleaning the slicer, checking the outside floor for any spills or slipping hazards, and checking the soup pots.

But, clearly, I wasn't good enough for them, so they worked me as little as they could (and worked me as hard as they could when I was there), until something just had to give.

Now that my old boss is gone, a part of me wishes him luck while another part says, "Good riddance."

WinCo is still a nice place to shop, and I'll still buy stuff from there from time to time...but I have no intention of ever working there again. Once was enough.

Here's hoping I can make it with Kneaders. All grueling work aside, Kneaders has been better to me than WinCo's ever been. As far as I'm concerned, WinCo's loss is Kneaders' gain. 

A Whole New Job

Well, after two grueling years, I am proud (and sad) to say that my time as an employee for WinCo Foods has officially ended. I had my last shift last night (and it was a night shift, unsurprisingly), I left my apron and name tag behind when I clocked out, and I can now say, "My work here is done."

While I wouldn't say WinCo Foods is a bad place to work, it hasn't been very good for me, mostly because my hours were too unpredictable and became far too few, especially in the last six months. Most of the people I worked with were nice enough (I even became Facebook friends with some of them), but the job as a whole hasn't made me happy, though it made me plenty tired and stressed.

I especially dreaded the night shifts. I never was a fan of working at night at any place, because it's a long and tedious process. Everything has to be just so before you can go home, customers often pop in at the very last minute, and I would come home tired and sore all over. Mom was always nice enough to give me a massage and she'd tell me I was as hard as a rock, and I'd pop like a bowl of Rice Krispies the next morning.

Beyond that, I'm just the type of person who would rather work in the daytime and use the nighttime to relax. I'm not exactly a night owl, at least outside my house.

Sometimes my superiors at WinCo made me feel like my best efforts weren't good enough. I felt like they focused too much on what I did wrong and too little on what I did right. While I could understand their viewpoint perfectly, I wish they had understood my viewpoint a bit better. I can handle constructive criticism but a bit of leeway is always nice. I don't like to show off but I appreciate a word of appreciation now and then. It's amazing what a kind word can do for your morale.

Maybe that's why I'm extra-polite when I go somewhere; I make an effort to personally thank the cashiers and compliment the chefs and janitors. Maybe we all need to learn to be a bit nicer to each other.

But the worst part, as I said, was when WinCo cut my hours too much, and so my salary took a big, bad hit. And when your salary goes down, that doesn't mean your expenses are going away.

It sure sucks when you don't have enough money and your expenses say, "Well, tough luck, pay up anyway!" If I wasn't living at home, if my mom and siblings didn't help me out, I would be completely sunk. 

Besides my college debts, I thought WinCo would handle my medical insurance (you qualify for their insurance program after working with them for a year), but it turns out there is a string attached: you have to work a minimum of 30 hours a week. And since I was nowhere close to 30 hours (I was lucky to get more than 5 or 6 hours at a time), I was pretty much screwed over.

So, in 2019, I had to find my own Healthcare plan and pay for it out of my own pocket, as if my paycheck wasn't meager enough. And the cheapest plan I could find still costs me more than $200 a month. That means I was upset with my job and the government; while I understand the importance of medical insurance, I don't think it's fair to threaten people with a fine if they can't afford it. No one should have to have their arm twisted like that.

I would have quit a long time ago if possible, but I needed something else to fall back on, since having no job at all wasn't exactly an option.

I put out plenty of applications and resumes, and had a couple of nice interviews...but no one seemed willing to give me a chance.

Not till now.

Where will I be working this time? Starting April 8 (which happens to be my dad's birthday), I will be a cashier for Kneaders Bakery & Cafe.

I'll be honest: my expectations weren't too high when I applied to Kneaders. It was like a dart thrown halfheartedly, but I ended up scoring a bull's-eye. My expectations weren't high after I had the interview, either.

Then they sent me a text message, saying they wanted me.

Imagine that!

Guess it's true what they say: change often happens when you least expect it.

Now, I'm perfectly aware that Kneaders won't be perfect. No job is perfect, and even writing and drawing (my ultimate dream job) aren't all fun and games. I will have my bad days as well as my good days.

But for better or for worse, I am here, and so I might as well make the most of it.

There are at least a few pros to working here. For one thing, this particular Kneaders place is just a few blocks from my house, just across the street from my old elementary school. This means I can easily walk there; I bet this is as close to home as I'll ever get to work, besides actually working at home. Transportation will never be an issue unless the weather gets that bad. Funnily enough, one of the questions they asked me at the interview was, "Do you have reliable transportation?" I should hope so!

For another thing, this place is (gasp!) closed on Sundays.

I will have to work some holidays (which is fair, considering what happens in a bakery/gift shop around the holidays), and these days, my holidays are pretty low-key anyway. Even Deseret Industries and WinCo made us work holidays, closing only for Thanksgiving and Christmas Day. My first day at WinCo began on St. Patrick's Day.

But I won't have to worry about missing church and working on Sundays anymore.

These days, it's so hard to find a non-Sunday job. Not to knock those who do work Sundays, of course; some people (like WinCo) just don't see Sunday the way I do, and some services will be needed regardless of the day of the week.

Still, I would much rather not work on the Lord's Day if I don't have to.

And since Kneaders is closed that day, that's an answer to prayer right there.

I'm still nervous, which I suppose is normal, and even a good thing because it means I see this like a big deal and so I'll treat it like a big deal. It's also strange because I have been at WinCo for two years and I got used to the routine, and now I'll have a brand-new routine to get used to. Plus, I have been at the deli the longest of anybody; even my boss came to the store after I did (he was boss #3). I wonder who's going to break my record.

Well, at least I get to leave WinCo the way I wanted: professionally quitting. I always felt bad when I saw my coworkers get fired or quit on the spot, and I have a slight phobia of getting fired myself. I had always hoped to leave WinCo with that two-week notice, and now I have. I doubt they'll feel my absence that much, though a few teammates wished me luck and I promised to stop by now and then as a shopper.

WinCo may not be the most ideal place for employment, but they still have good stuff at great prices. In fact, the only thing that's keeping Mom from doing her weekly shopping there is the fact that the customers must bag their own groceries.

Once in a while, we like to get a nice chicken dinner from WinCo. My siblings and I love the potato wedges, and Mom has fallen in love with their rotisserie chickens. Just about everybody adores WinCo's wedges, which they call all kinds of names, from "big fries" to "Jojos" to "tater babies." It's no surprise that customers often insist on a fresh batch.

On my last shift, a lady came with her husband and two kids and ordered a big chicken dinner, with an extra pound of wedges on the side. She asked if it would be possible to get soft wedges, since she almost broke a tooth last time. I told her if she would be willing to wait a few minutes, we could fry her a fresh batch right away, and she was surprised but very grateful; I can still see that glow in her eyes and hear that delighted note in her voice.

They came back almost immediately after I shut off the fryer and checked the temperature of the wedges, so I couldn't resist telling them, "You're just in time!" I also advised them to let the wedges breathe a bit, since they were piping hot. But they were happy enough to have it all fresh, and you don't get fresher than that!

Being a fry addict myself, I could snack on WinCo's wedges anytime, anywhere. They go especially well with ketchup and I like to wash them down with soda. I definitely plan to stop by now and then just for some wedges!

Plus, they sell fruit parfaits, which stir up fond memories of my college days. I ate a lot of parfaits as a Weber State student. In the food court, they had these really nice mixed-berry parfaits with granola, and I'd have them with pretty much any meal; they went just as well with my dinner as they went with my breakfast. While the WinCo parfaits have different fruit (strawberry and mango), the yogurt tastes the same, and they still include that little cup of granola. So parfaits have become a kind of comfort food for me.

Today, one chapter in my life has ended. In just a few days, a brand new chapter will begin.

Onward and upward! Tally-ho!