Irresponsibility InAction

Another holiday, another day of time and a half pay not earned at all.  Yeah, that was me at work on July 4th.  I showed up an hour late, didn’t do anything that could even be mistaken for work, and left right on time (though, at the time, I thought I was leaving an hour early).  So I got paid for 7.5 hours of work just to sit on my ass and make conversation with people for five hours.  And who says you have to earn your keep?

It creates a problem for me, though.  I’ve said it a thousand times since October that I have more job security than anyone else in the store (and it is true……..sadly enough).  But now I’m really starting to abuse that.  I’m late almost every single day.  I don’t work as hard as I used to (I’m really starting to see the futility in doing my own job….I’ll get to that).  So I’ll just kind of meader around and talk to people.  A piss break will turn into stopping to talk to three people on my way and taking the better part of an hour.  A simple task will become an extended field trip.  Today was the height of blatantness about it, though.  I was right on time this morning (shocker!), and immediately jumped in and helped unload the truck, because I couldn’t stomach the thought of doing my own work.  That took until a little after 10 AM.  It was the last real work I did all day.  Anything I did after that was merely paperwork, and not much of it.  As has become a Wednesday tradition, I spent around an hour helping Augie make the schedule for next week (though, really, he needs my help….he’s not always so great at remembering to always have shifts covered).  We got done with that about 1:15 PM.  So I had 90 minutes to kill before I could leave.  I spent about half an hour talking to Augie’s girlfriend out on the sales floor (she’s the chatty type, lemme tell ya), then a few minutes talking to her boss (who used to be my boss).  I helped Dewayne, the little brother figure, unbox a big screen TV.  I talked to more people for a while.  Then I left.  I haven’t done shit in three days.  Three!  And no one says anything to me!  It’s almost like I’m waiting to be admonished before I’ll do anything about it.  But I have built in excuses……….it seems like everytime I’m about to do my own work, something will come up and I’ll have to go do something for someone else.  And I never refuse because I’m a sucker like that.  Ah, to be a doormat.  We have a visit from the Regional Manager in a couple weeks and I’ve devised a plan for it:  I’m just going to keep my area looking as it does now, just working on it when I feel like it, then blame it on, a) not being full-time, therefore not getting enough hours to do all I’m asked to do, and, b) the fact that Receiving’s hours have been cut to the point where I’m forced to help them because no one else knows how to, or is willing to.  I will await the reaction to these points with great anticipation……..though, if I am to be honest, it won’t make a fucking bit of difference.  This is a Corporate Dickhole we’re talking about here.  Logic and common sense don’t exist to them.  Ah, well.  Fuck ’em.

Now Playing in Dave’s Mental Jukebox:  "Hold Back the Day" by DevilDriver, "Saffron’s Curse" by Cradle of Filth, and "Loveless" by Kittie (this has quickly become my favorite Kittie song, supplanting "In Winter," which I never thought could be topped)

In the span of two days, I’ve had more visitors to my apartment than in the entire past year.  Tuesday night, Will and Monica came over since they were leaving to return home today, and we spent a few hours futzing about and laughing and comparing nerdiness.  Then, today, C.J. came over to trade me a copy of Grandia II (the Dreamcast version…finally a reason to break it back out!) for the 13" TV that I had used my last semester of college in my dorm room.  It was just gathering dust in my dad’s garage, so it was a great deal for me.  And it saved me from having to pay for Grandia II.  Anytime I can get a "free" game, I’m happy.

I’m hopeful to visit Will and Monica in September (job situation pending, among other such things) for the dual purpose of seeing them (obviously), but also attending a baseball game between the Kansas City Royals and my very beloved (though, inexplicably, in last place in their division) Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim (::sigh::  I hate that name so much, even still…..and, yet, I bother with all of it…..probably to continuously point out the stupidity of it).  No one seems to mind that I’ll have that ulterior motive of baseball, but, hey, you won’t find me complaining.

In exactly two weeks, C.J. will turn 21.  Just thinking about it makes me feel like I’m older than fucking Methuselah.

So we’re stuck with watching Italy vs. France in the World Cup finals…  France I don’t mind, though.  Actually, I rather like watching them play.  They play a slow, methodical style, but not in the traditional sense.  Usually calling a team’s style "slow and methodical" means they just play a lot of defense, but France is different.  They are aggressively offensive with their methodical play.  They look for the very best chances or wait for the defense to break down.  They’ve got a ton of talent.  Italy, too, has tons of talent.  They’re more up-tempo than France, but they’re also incredibly solid on defence.  It’s weird….no one ever really talks about how good Italy’s defence is, but it’s been the best part of the team this year.  But I hate watching them play.  They dive like kids on a Slip ‘N Slide.  It’s an affront to the way the game should be played.  Kind of like Portugal was today.  Diving all over the place looking for a call.  Bitches…they got what they deserved.

Well, my brain seems to have hit the inevitable stalling point.  So, I guess this is my stop on the great Amtrak of Thought.  Then again, there wasn’t much thought involved in this one tonight.  Maybe some other time, I suppose.  Perhaps I should use some of my self-made free time at work to be introspective.  Then again………………maybe I should just actually try to accomplish something.  Pfft.  Yeah, right.  Oh, well.  Off to eBay!  Time to look up stuff I can’t afford.

Sayonara.