7th Heaven

My craptacular house is now at capacity. Seven people live here. That's way too many. A Dal TA from France just moved into the last free room. He's optimistic and full of big ideas. "Wouldn't it be great if we could walk around in sock feet or barefoot? Wouldn't it be nice if we didn't have too many dirty dishes in the sink?" You know what else would be nice? If Wal-mart paid me per stupid customer and I could use my knife to cut other things besides boxes. It's not gonna happen, Frenchie. It's almost as if he hasn't met Shorty. The good news is that all of the new roommates seem like responsible, respectful people. I actually like all of them. I have been systematically turning each person against Shorty, although he's doing most of the work. He's already asked everyone for money and cigarettes.

My Wal-mart shifts these days are mostly weekdays during the day. I don't know if I can handle these daytime workers. They take their jobs so seriously. I've always thought the daytime staffers were really rude to customers. Now I understand why. You just get so involved in your little tasks. Put hook in wall, put socks on hook, put hook in wall, put socks on hook. You develop a pleasing rhythm. Then a customer comes and asks you about a bra and you want to say "Can't you see I'm doing socks?! I can't think about bras right now! Geez!" The daytime staff would have conniption fits if they knew how little work the evening/weekend workers do. The last night I worked I spent two hours talking to a co-worker, not even talking while we worked, just talking. Then I needed garlic fingers and we spent an hour ordering, waiting for, and eating the garlic fingers. I don't normally need garlic fingers but I did that night because I was still drunk from spending the afternoon on a Class of 2008 library technician pub crawl.

My "new" job generates a lot of waste. After I empty 30 boxes of pantyhose and mittens, I'm left with a huge stack of cardboard and a big bag of plastic bags. Disposing of this garbage is the most traumatic part of my day. The cardboard goes in the baler, a big terrifying squashing machine. It's okay if I can just throw the cardboard in and run away, but if it's full, I have to turn the machine on. I'm always scared there might be someone in there. However unlikely, it is technically possible. I don't understand why if it's just cardboard, it makes a sound like crushing bones. The plastic is to be thrown into a giant recycling bin, the opening of which is at the height of a two storey building. Do you know how much a bag of plastic bags weighs? Like 5 ounces. The first day I tried throwing a nearly weightless bag that high, I knew it was impossible. The warehouse guys, who were there unloading a truck, stopped working long enough to offer tips and laugh like I was the funniest thing that happened all week. After it stopped being funny (approximately seven tries) someone finally did it for me. The next day I worked on my technique when no one was there and today I did it one try! I victory punched the air. Then I decided I should maybe work on setting higher goals for myself and possibly even start applying for other jobs.

Back Online

I'm finally back online after two weeks without the internet. I've been going crazy not knowing what's going on in the world. I made one trip to the library on Spring Garden. I had a computer booked but I still had to kick off a wild looking man who I'm pretty sure was looking at porn. Things are not looking good for my own computer so I have stolen my brother's. We don't expect him back from Australia for at least a year so surely that will be enough time for him to forget he ever owned a computer. He'll probably buy a fancy new one over there anyway. In the last communication I received from him, he said he was learning to play the didgeridoo and that wallabies roam his campus. It sounds like he's living my dream. Jerk.

My house is filling up with students. Our current population is five, which includes a Japanese physics major, a young German man who doesn't understand the washing machine, a NSCAD student who's going through a bad break up, me, and Shorty. I smell a sitcom! Shorty has triumphed over many obstacles and somehow remains living in the house. Last week an insane fight broke out between him and the landlord over an unpaid phone bill. It very nearly came to blows. I dislike them both equally so I had no favorite to win. I was hoping for some kind of resolution but Shorty is still here and things are still volatile. But the situation is not without advantages. I've really been playing up the trauma I've endured living with Shorty. The result: I haven't paid rent in three months and no one's asking any questions.

I've also lost five lbs on the Shorty Diet. All you need for this diet is a Shorty. He will eat all your food so you cannot. When you wise up and start locking up all your food, the diet continues to work because every time you want a snack you think about all the hassle it will take to find the right keys to all the cabinets and end up saying "Screw that, I'll just have some gum".

Shorty's shopping spree at Wal-mart has also opened up some interesting new challenges at work now that I know the security guards a little better. They are constantly in need of volunteers. Whenever a woman is caught shoplifting, a female staff member has to go sit with them in the security office until the police arrive. It's basically a half hour break. The first couple of times were a breeze, the culprits scared 14-year-olds. The older she-thieves are a bit more challenging. One woman offered me a twenty dollar bribe to distract the security guards. Another time, a crackhead demanded to know if I was going to testify against her. And most recently, a drunk woman, who assaulted both the security guys, kept getting up from her bench and casually wandering around casing the exit like she was going to make a run for it. I was a nervous wreck by the time she finally got dealt with. I keep doing it though. I like their crazy stories.

I got a fake promotion. I use the term promotion loosely because there is no increase in pay, just an increase in responsibility and hassle. I'm now in charge of the accessories (purses, luggage, socks, belts etc.) department. Today I was given my own knife for cutting open boxes. This is a big deal. Not just anyone gets a knife. The knife distributor woman is very stingy. She also told me I had to watch an instructional video before I could use the knife. It's a good thing I didn't laugh because she was serious. I didn't have time to watch the video today so she made me promise twice that I would watch it tomorrow.