What a beautiful day today....

We'll probably get a foot of snow tomorrow.

I can tell my daughter is feeling better now. Already today I've had to fish a brand new roll of toilet paper out of the toilet, sweep up a box of cereal, and cut a sucker out of her hair.

She hardly had any to begin with!

Which reminds me, it's about time to post a recent picture of them on here, isn't it.

"There's a dead body in the trunk."

Thomas says to me as we're heading down the parking lot at Walmart.

"What?" I say to him. Did he really say 'dead body'?

"There's a dead body in that trunk. I saw it's arm and leg." He's serious, his brows furrowed.

"A dead body?" I question. He did say dead body.

"See," he's pointing to a car next to us as we walk past.

"We don't have time to do this Thomas, I've got to pick up groceries."

"You're just a big chicken, aren't you," he is laughing now, he thinks I'm afraid to look at the dead body. I can't help but laugh to myself. Glancing over my shoulder, I see the fake arm and leg sticking out of the trunk of the car.

Sale Stealing

The store manager stole my sale today. It totally ticked me off. When the total value of my worth is based on sales per house and units per transaction, it is necessary that I get my salesS! I never knew what retail sales people went through until I started this job.... I hate it. Those of you out there who shop at places like Dressbarn, keep in mind one important thing. When you think the sales people are being too pushy and asking too many questions, it isn't because they necessarily want to. They are forced to. When your manager is breathing down your neck watching your every move because it's time for your monthly evaluation, you have no choice.

On a positive note: I had my monthly evaluation today and the store manager said I was doing well. My yearly eval comes due next month. I can't believe I made it an entire year already....

I'm broke, thirsty, and totally irritated.....

and I really want my old template back.

I've hated working at Dressbarn long enough to discover that I really don't care whether or not I get fired for blogging. So, I'm just going to do it.

I went home sick on Tuesday. I wasn't really sick, I just didn't want to work. I could see a woman sitting out in her car waiting for us to open, no doubt with a bag full of returns and a few sorry excuses as to why she didn't want anything.

You know, I don't really care why you bought a bag full of stuff that was too small. I don't believe you when you tell me that our clothes run small.

THEY DON'T!

You're just fatter then you want to believe, tubby. And, here's another thing, if you would just try them on before you leave the story, you would know you look like a stuffed sausage in those jeans that are at least 2 sizes too small for you.

I know I shouldn't hate the public as much as I do, I just can't help it. When I have to peel bloody band aids from the wall by the shoes and wipe boogers off the mirrors in the fitting room, there is just something wrong. The public DISGUSTS me. Or, I should say, WOMEN in the public disgust me.

Miss me??

Boy, it's been a while, hasn't it. I've definitely got to get back into my blogging routine again. I miss it.

Do people still blog anymore?

It has been my curse for many years that people tend to divulge all sorts of information to me, most of which I'd never care to know to begin with. The hardest part of being a fashionista is the fact that I'm now forced to small talk my way through sales and keep husbands and boyfriends occupied while their wives and girlfriends wander through the store looking for the latest styles.

On Wednesday I waited on a man and his wife who were shopping for an outfit for the wife to wear to a wedding.

In the period of time it took for the wife to try on a few outfits and use the bathroom I learned that the husband had been a single dad, his wife had left him when his 2 kids were 8 and 11, he had been a respiratory therapist up until November when he came down with a respiratory disease, he had been mistaken for Hank Williams Jr. on several occasions in the past, he had formerly sported long black hair that drove the women wild, and he had only been married to his current wife for 2 years.

I think he may have been trying to hit on me, actually. Yikes!

The store manager happened to be standing by the register when the husband went into his detailed account of his Hank Williams Jr. days. I could see her, through the corner of my eye, staring openly at this guy in disbelief, mouth agape.

Apparently nobody EVER tells her the intimate details of their every day life. I told her she was lucky.

A Guy Named Al

Have you ever looked off into the distance and found a set of eyes staring back at you?

I was in Walmart earlier today picking up a few items when I came across a friend of mine from previous employment. Like I do with everyone I see that I used to work with, we chatted for about 10 minutes catching up on new endeavors and changes that have happened in our lives since we all lost our jobs. It was at the tail end of the conversation that my sight line drifted off into the distance.

Intending on staring off into space for a moment before saying my farewell, my attention was immediately grabbed by a man standing by the deli counter staring at me.

At first I couldn't place the face. How do I know this guy? His face so familiar to me that I just knew I knew him from somewhere, yet, I had no idea where! I wondered if he were thinking the same thing.

I was almost at the register when it hit me.

He and I worked at McDonald's together, many MANY moons ago, and he had developed a crush on me at some point. Although I never really had any feelings for this guy, I did keep a straw wrapper he had tossed at me and glued it into a scrapbook I was keeping at the time.

Black Tuesday

Not a single, solitary sale today....

I hate days like that. The minutes seem to just crawl by, 3 hours feels like an eternity.

Phone Lady was in again today, with all her usual charm and grace. After greeting her in my required 60 second time frame I was curtly told she was just window shopping and she immediately pulled out her cell phone and dialed a number. Her conversation could be heard across the store, but Phone Lady never cares, her only mission in life is to prove to others how important she is via the cell phone.

"May I try these on please?" Phone Lady asked, holding out a few clearance items she had snagged from a rack.

"Sure, let me start a fitting room for you," I smiled, totally faking it. This woman is a pain in the ass every time she frequents the store.

Several moments pass when I hear Phone Lady asking for my assistance. She is peeking out the fitting room door and asking me if I can exchange some capri pants for her, she is looking for a size 12.

Size 12?

I look at her, look at the size 10 capri pants she has given me, and I have to fight to keep opinions to myself.

The woman is CLEARLY not a size 12, she would have to drop half her body weight to be a size 12.

"This woman is totally in denial," I laugh, rolling my eyes, and head over to the clearance rack.

"You're starting to catch on to things around here," Bev says, chuckling over my comment.

Needless to say, Phone Lady did not actually find anything that fit her 'just right' today.

A fashionista in the making?

Once again I've taken on the task of cleaning out my closet.

Or, should I say black hole?

I've quickly discovered my closet could easily pass for a vortex of no return. The deeper I go, the scarier it gets. At one point I thought I had unearthed Jimmy Hoffa......

It was amazing to discover that I actually have an entire empty shelf once I removed the mountain of discarded price tags and accumulated buttons and extra lengths of thread that accompany each new article of clothing you purchase.

The one highlight of the experience was when Baby Fashionista came hobbling out of my closet with a pair of nylons draped around her shoulders like a scarf and a silver ballet sandal on each foot.

Like Mother, like daughter....

Late for Class

For the first time since the semester began, Mr. WS was actually 5 minutes early for class today.

Oddly enough, half the class was not there yet.

After making an initial observation about how several people were not there yet, I curtly commented it was probably because he's always late for class.

"I'm never late for class," he replied.

"You've been late every time," I returned. The whole class was silent. I really don't think anyone knew what to do.

"Well," he looked at the clock, then looked at his computer screen, dismissing me.

Several moments pass before the rest of the class showed up, each one with a startled look of surprise on their face upon discovering Mr. WS was ontime today and they were the ones who were late.

Who knows, now that he's gotten the hang of 'being on time' he may decide to branch out and actually create a syllabus for us too.

Rockin' Roberta

A pint sized pixie with the temper of a hell cat.....

That would be Rockin' Roberta.

Up until today, I had never seen her get mad before. I didn't think it was even possible, to be honest. Mild mannered, nasal voiced, easy going Roberta... But, oh yes, Rockin' Roberta does indeed get mad!

In her usual 'in your face' manner Stretch hit the store full force today. From the minute she got there she was like a sales glutton, snatching up every customer who graced our front step. When she wasn't stealing customers she was knit picking Roberta's every last moved.

I could practically hear the snap as the final straw hit Roberta's back causing her to instantly cut loose and unleash a wrath on Stretch that had even me wincing and cowering in the corner like a scolded puppy.

Way to go Roberta!!