Short Post Retail Notes

 The thing about a wonderful job like the one I'm doing now, where I can work from home and set my own hours, is that I have to show up for it regularly (whether that's at two am or ten pm). That isn't my strong suit, because even when I am consistent in one part of my life, other parts tend to suffer. But I am so grateful to be able to not only work from home, but to use my mind and not just do something repetitive and mundane where I don't need to think much.

When I worked as a teen at Cost Plus in Marin, I was assigned the role of cashier. I wasn't allowed to walk around the store or do any stocking of shelves or anything else besides remain in a certain square foot radius of the point of sale. We didn't have touchscreens or scanners then, and I can't remember how we took credit cards, but it was probably with a manual imprint device. Since there was not always a customer to ring up, there was a lot of boring downtime when I just had to stand there. The only thing they offered to fill the time was the tearing of broad sheets, specifically the Wall Street Journal. The paper was used to wrap delicate items like dishware, ornaments, and anything delicate made of glass or ceramic. I was jealous of the employees that could walk around the store as part of their jobs; but I don't recall ever asking if I could do that instead.

I loved to write and read, so I would try to take notes I thought of and read sections of the newspaper when I could do it without appearing to be "not working." I would calculate how much I would make that week to kill time, probably earning around five dollars an hour (I can't remember but I know it was way less than ten). The store was cool, but the job was tedious. It was also emotionally stressful to be a poor person selling hundreds of dollars of merchandise to wealthy Marinites. I was trying to help my mom pay our mortgage and bills while most of the customers were driving expensive cars and redecorating their homes for the seventeenth time. Occasionally, I would steal one of the twenty-five-cent Lindor chocolates we always had for sale at the registers to eat on my break. I didn't have any justification for shoplifting, except for being hungry and not having any money. Looking back, I shouldn't have worked somewhere so far from home, that I had to drive to every day, because that also was a source of stress; though gas was probably less than two dollars a gallon back then.

Before Cost Plus, I worked at Long's Drugstore, which was still a mix of rich people shopping, but was more of a blue-collar environment, so it felt more comfortable. Except that I still felt aimless because I wanted to go to college like most of my friends, instead of working a menial job. That was frustrating. Once I had to ring up a boy and his mom, and I recognized Toby N. as someone I had gone to elementary school with and liked a lot as a friend; he seemed so embarrassed to see me working there that he didn't even make eye contact. That made me feel ashamed, though I had no reason to be. I don't recall being bored there, because it was pretty busy in general. I do remember the cash registers were the most basic kind, where you typed in every price by hand, so my ten-key skills were improving. I got to do some stocking and facing products in the store, which gave me some variety occasionally. I recall (and regret) also shoplifting from there, in the form of cigarettes which I smoked but didn't want to pay for, even though they were cheap at the time. And I would give "discounts" to people who I thought needed it, in the form of simply not ringing up some of their items if they had a lot. That was stealing and I regret doing it, but I guess I was trying to exert some control over my life in a twisted way. I didn't ever tell the customer about it, but just did it on my own. Maybe I was trying to "get back" at the world in some small way for leaving me fatherless and sad. Or I was trying to be slightly rebellious in a way that I thought wouldn't hurt anybody.

I slightly redeemed my karma by alerting the manager to a whole stack of cash they had missed when doing the nightly cash pickup at closing time one day. I didn't think twice about it, and they were very grateful. Ironically, it was a similar incident that got me fired from the OMSI "Science Store" gift shop many years later. 

 It should have been a minor infraction if anything, because the store was closed at the time (but there were still a few customers remaining, and that was her reasoning for the firing). The money was in a zipper bag, and not loose in the open, and it was only out of my sight for several minutes; but another supervisor reported me for it. I regret accepting that job, it was pretty shitty in several ways (like a lot of retail) and I was already very content doing the volunteer work I was already doing there in the insect and animal center. The interesting thing is that because of that job (this would still have happened if I only stayed doing the volunteer work there that I enjoyed) I reunited with my childhood friend from California, Kirsten E., whom I had no idea had been living in Vancouver for almost as many years as I had been in Portland already. Getting fired  or suspended for any reason sucks. It feels sad and demeaning, and made me feel very alone and let down, disappointed in myself, my choices, and my boss and coworkers for not giving me a second chance. 

I remember thinking I was never welcomed or accepted by them in the first place, so why was I surprised? And now I realize more than ever that if you act out of desperation rather than doing something that really meets your soul purpose and helps you on your journey to fulfill your highest potential, it's not going to work out. I think the biggest clue/red flag was that she (Tina, the boss who lacked a sense of humor and any empathy) wanted to hire me as a supervisor, which I totally didn't want the responsibility of, especially after having been a manager at Subway (the only job I got offered after college; another long story) ... so that (I believe) is called self-fulfilling prophecy. Or is it destiny? Anyway, the job was not a good fit for me, and karma/dharma ironed that out for me eventually, since I wouldn't do it myself. There's always something good even in seemingly shitty things, and I did like riding my bike to work there, over the river and along the waterfront ... and I got into the museum for free; not that I went on my days off ...

 It was definitely hard working three jobs at the time in California as a teen to try and take care of my mom, when what I wished I was doing was living on my own or with a friend, and taking art classes. (The other two jobs were at Wildwood Natural Foods and West Brooklyn Pizza Company, which I may or may not discuss later, if I haven't already done so and forgotten about it.) I remember how much it sucked to be reprimanded for being late to the tofu/sandwich-making job because I was coming from the drugstore across town, but at least the managers there were forgiving. This was a long time before cell phones, by the way.

After all that randomness and run-on sentences galore, all the confessions and truth-telling, I think the point in the back of my mind is that cashiers (and any low-level, but very essential workers) should be paid more, so they can actually pay their bills and possibly save up for a vacation or to own a home; but definitely just enough at least to make ends meet without super mental stress and physical exhaustion. I also think they (cashiers especially, who are confined to a small space all day) should be allowed to sit as desired, as long as it is convenient and conducive to doing the job. When I watch movies with cashiers sitting on stools at their registers in the supermarkets in the UK, and other parts of Europe, I can't believe it's not allowed here at all. The job is done just as, and possibly even more, efficiently than by the people forced to stand constantly. I have experienced so much back, knee, and foot pain from standing in the same spot at these different jobs, that could easily have been avoided if we were allowed to simply sit. 

I think I could write a whole essay on that particular bullshit point alone, it makes me so mad. Other bullshit things I have come across at different retail jobs (including Wal-Mart and Rite Aid) were that you are not allowed to have your phone on your person while on the clock, and you are not to have your hands in your pockets at any time, and you are always to "keep busy," even if it means straightening the same rack of gum that's already been done, or cleaning the same counters that have already been wiped down multiple times. This "keep busy" mentality makes sense in most ways, and I did take it seriously, but "busy work" is unproductive, uninspiring, and even demeaning because there is no tangible result to show for it. Even when a manager would bring you a task that you could do at the check stand in between customers, the fact that you have to stand there when it could be done just as easily while seated, just drives me nuts with the lack of compassion or logical consideration for basic ergonomics.

This wasn't as short as I wanted it to be, but I got some cobwebs of my own out into the open, which will hopefully help me let go of past resentment and regret; it's long overdue so I can continue to try and make peace with my life choices and situations and move into a better and brighter future. P&L

Retail Hell Underbelly

 Retail Hell Underground was (and probably still is) a really cool site that lets you share your experiences of working the minimum wage jobs that make up the backbone of the American commercial retail empire in various stores. There are other vital aspects of course, like shipping and delivering and stocking shelves, but the people who have to actively sell items to the public are the focus. Because we are usually underpaid, overworked, and often abused verbally as well as taken advantage of in any way the usually less than scrupulous bosses of the corporations see fit. We are often unionless, and without Human Resources departments to offer help when needed. It can feel like being lower than working class, at the bottom of the food chain, when you can barely pay rent and need food stamps to survive. Not to mention always having to work weekends and holidays.

It was a supportive community I was thrilled to discover. It reminded me of one of the first blogs I read faithfully, in the early-mid aughts, called "Waiterrant" (or Waiter Rant), which talked in engaging prose about the experiences of being a server in a high-end fine dining restaurant, and about the interactions with the customers. I have worked so many similar jobs in retail and restaurants (though never anything that fancy) that I felt heard and seen and connected to the stories I was reading. I have often felt that because of the jobs I did as a teenager, I became stuck in the service industry field, when what I really wanted to do was totally different. 

It's easy to take "any" job to make the essential earnings you need to get by, when it's not even related to what you might excel at or enjoy. I think that's one of the deep issues with the modern system of public education and employment tracks, and I can only speak for what I know in my own geographical location, so I don't even know if it's an American thing only, or not. We don't have enough trade schools, and we don't have enough counseling and career guidance as youths to know how to find out what we are good at, and how to target a path to the education and jobs in those fields. 

The Works Project Administration (WPA) comes to mind as something that actually helped people to work in fields that they were interested in, as well as make living wages. And the G.I. bill post WWII that helped returning military service persons to procure schooling and housing that would help them to thrive in the future. I don't know if either of those programs included women, as the jobs for women historically have focused on nursing, teaching, childcare motherhood, administrative assistance, and other more menial labor positions. But the ethical ideal and moral goal of those programs was admirable and highly successful. The actions of implementing training and education so that people do have a choice and don't have to be stuck in dead-end jobs if they don't want to made a massive difference for an entire generation.

I was thinking about this topic again because I (gratefully and most appreciatively) am finally not constrained to that type of job anymore. But I have two related topics I want to explore even further, over the next couple of weeks, like how I began working in schools, when I thought (mistakenly) one needed a master's degree to do so, and how I tried to keep my mind active when confined to a cashier station (thankfully a thing in the past, but the miserable memories resurface when I recall those times). I also might share some of my strange (not that strange, but not great either) memories of the gig jobs I have "had" to do, like temporary catering staff, and delivery driver.

Keep calm and carry on, it gets better, be kind to yourself. P&L.

P.S. It looks like they have social media pages, but I don't see their main website page, but if you're interested: RHU

P.P.S. I had no idea that the Waiterrant author was still in business, as it were, because I stopped reading years ago; but they are still active and that's pretty cool!!

Back on the HORSE

 I had some intense personal stuff last week and was stressed and anxious for days, losing sleep and not feeling calm most of the time. I was sad that I did not have interest in writing or posting, but I gave myself some grace and said I would do it next week when, hopefully, I would be feeling better and some issues were resolved.

I'm happy to say that that is mostly the case. I was keeping up the momentum of regular posting and feeling more satisfied and confident because of keeping my word to myself. Promises we make to ourselves are as important, if not more so, than ones we make to other people. I remember many years ago one of my New Year's resolutions was to keep the promises I make to myself, and while I haven't been absolutely true to that, I have been doing a very good job for the most part.

I made a decision that I think will also help me moving forward with my personal goal to keep writing and posting words and art (on the word press site), which is to continue my goal of writing on Wednesdays, but instead of posting right away, and pressuring myself to keep that (unnecessary) deadline, I will wait and read what I wrote and make any edits I choose before posting on Thursdays or Fridays.

This started as a blog about working and jobs, which I still have a lot to say about, but right now I have to literally get back to work, so I will leave it for next time. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you to Goddess and Universe alike for giving me assistance when I need it. Peace and Love. P.S. Here's a photo I took on Saturday at Amber Lake; it was a very peaceful and beautiful view, and I hope I get the chance to return there someday.

 

Maybe there's too much sometimes

 Maybe there's too much sometimes and I need to slow my roll, and my "role" and just say Less.

Oh, I see what you did there...!

 I was doing so well at improving my typing skills and speed over the summer, but I lapsed into complacency, stopped doing my little practice sessions before work each day, and now I find myself looking down at my hands again. I thought I broke the habit, but apparently not.

Anyway, here are some more art works from the past year that I made: 

Peace and Love, Be Kind to one another.

No wri November

 I think I will just share art I made this whole month ... not necessarily something I make this month, though I will probably do that too; but art I have made in the past. Just a writing break in general (I write a lot of letters, journal entries, and also for work, so it will help me get in the habit of posting regularly without the pressure to put as much time into it as I would normally like to.

Peace and Love. More on Wednesday.

Time to Die, Mr. Bond

 I think everyone knows that line; it lives in your head, and pops up sometimes at the most unusual moments, like when you need to enter a title for your blog and you didn't have one ready. Sometimes going with your instinct, check that, I mean cross that out; not *sometimes* but *most* of the time; going with your instinct , or your first thought, or your inner voice from your *higher* subconscious self, is the best way to go. And without even planning it, I now have a subject for this entry,

Attuning to the process of listening to yourself, which I am learning about lately through all of the online lectures and workshops I have been doing off and on for the past five years, takes practice. And when I began to think of it as connecting with my "highest and best" (the phrase that Sabrina Lynn of Rewilding uses often) Sabrina Lynn Rewilding and that you have a universe of helpers (God, Goddess archetypes, planetary archetypes, and angels (why not?), and also ancestral wisdom, available to connect with, it becomes easier to trust your inner voice. 

It's all connected (Dirk Gently is right!), all the people, nature, planets, and "everything above as it is below," so practicing going deeper into yourself to understand yourself (whether through meditation, embodied astrology, prayer, psychology, or counseling) is a big key to connecting to and trusting your own intuition. Some people can do it naturally, but for most of us, after years of social and psychological conditioning within our family groups and general societal constructs, it takes practice to regain what we have 'forgotten.' It's like relearning something that your DNA already has, but the tricky part is not overthinking it. 

Time to let go, release, and accept your past self's choices and decisions that caused you harm or regret. Time for your "little self" or 'ego self' to die, so your real and authentic self, your true self,  and who you were meant to be, can move toward whatever you are meant to do. So the title makes more sense to me now, if you take Bond as an archetype for the hero, but one who is more superficial, an image of perfection that is impossible to maintain, but who has a deeper reason for being than just foiling an evil plot. There is a lot more to him, and it will come out when the old self is dead/gone. 

I woke up late, so this was just quick-quick, like a dance step, and it came from that (random?) title I typed in, but it is a topic that I think about a lot, and will probably try to write more about, as I, myself, am working on figuring it all out. To quote another of Sabrina Lynn's favorite mantras: "Live More, Love More!" (say three to five times daily, rinse and repeat).

Peace and Love, K

As I wrote the part about Bond dying, I realized there is a film adaptation where that happens, and he essentially gives up spying to do a lot of soul-searching and work on himself for a change. But, the Time to Die line is from a much earlier film, before that ever happened. So, there you go. It was a necessary transformation in order for the charcter/archetype to evolve.

ACTUALLY, I just tried to look it up to check, and the line isn't even: "Time to Die," but "I expect you to die," from Goldfinger, so apologies. The misremembered phrase I wrote is the one I say occasionally, so I am going to leave it as-is!

I said I'd do it, and I'm doing it (So far, so good)

 

This is the new cat I got for my birthday last August. We thought he might never acclimate, but he is becoming progressively closer to us and our other cat, Dr. Crush, the orange ginger who adopted us when we moved here. I posted three art works on my Wordpress, and am writing a short post here, so the momentum will hopefully continue. 

My work from home job is going well still, but I need to learn GIMP photo editing and last night I started watching a tutorial on YouTube that someone shared from their Udemy course they taught. I think it will help a lot, I just need to focus and do it, step-by-step. It's easier to learn things that you are already interested in, so I think it should be okay!

This black cat came from the SpokAnimal shelter, and his name was Pepperjack. They said he started out as just "Pepper" and his sister was "Salt," if I recall correctly, but they had to be split up, so they added Jack to his name. I thought getting a friend for Dr. Crush would be a good idea, and it hasn't quite worked out that way yet. When he first came home with us, he soon escaped out of a window by knocking out the screen. 

Then we caught him with the help of a neighbor's borrowed cat trap cage. Then he got out again through Dr. Crush's in/out window insert cat flap door, so we removed that (and tried to catch him again with the trap), but he ended up running back inside miraculously. He has not escaped since. He likes to play with cat toys, and now eats near Dr. Crush pretty successfully (meaning not as much hissing and swatting as before). Sometimes they seem compatible, and highly tolerant of one another, and other times not so much. 

Pepper (now "Dr. Pepper") definitely attempts to initiate playtime more, and they chase each other down the hall with loud galloping steps at night, but Crush still seems to prefer his alone outside time to settling down with him. It's only been two months, and I think they have come a long way. Dr.Pepper will allow himself to be petted now, but *never* picked up, or held around the middle. 

Crush and Pepper in a few moments of peaceful coexistence, before the inevitable hiss and swat.

It's Wednesday My Dudes

 It's Wednesday My Dudes 

That's the title of the Discord group where people play Star Trek DS9 and watch it together. It's abstract because I don't know what the meaning is, other than announcing it's Wednesday, and since today is Wednesday, the day I decided last night after chatting with the AI about reviving my participation in Blogger and Wordpress sites I started long ago, it's a fitting title.

I haven't reviewed what I posted a couple years ago when I supposedly was going to start writing here again, so I won't be continuing whatever I was saying then, but I just wanted to re-introduce myself to the process of writing and posting; before I procrastinated or de-motivated. I'm going to keep this for writing, and use the Wordpress for my artwork sharing and notes on anything art related. Keep it Simple is always a good motto to remember.

I used to write regularly back and forth with my Uncle Wolfman (Eugene) in Ohio, but sadly he died the year before last. Then I was continuing to exchange art cards, letters, and texts with my dear friend and Moon Circle Sister Turquoize Moon Dancer in Oregon (I think I will write a whole essay about her in the future)... and then she died last summer...and I still write to some friends in California (Barb, one of my former high school teachers, and Rachel an old high school friend), but they don't write back, so it is very unfulfilling to try to maintain a correspondence with them. Barb writes very occasionally, but Rachel not at all; which I find strange because she used to be a prolific letter writer. My friend Adrienne, whom I have known since my Portland days of working at Soho Video, always writes back (with very artistic and creative handmade envelopes and thoughtful musings) but only when she is visiting her mom in Grass Valley, because she lives in Mexico now, and won't share her address with me for whatever reason (though we exchange messenger messages several times a week). 

My point is, I don't have people to write with, so if I'm writing to myself essentially, I may as well write in a blog. That's enough for now. I will make this a goal in writing to post something on Wednesday and Saturday each week. I might write about work, or relationships, spirituality and moon cycles, or cooking and television shows, I don't know. Probably a variety, because that's how life works, and that's the purpose of throwing one's words out into the void; just to get it all out of your head.

I know I can't re-create the magic of the creative card and letters that I exchanged with Turquoize, or Adrienne, but I can share my thoughts openly, and without fear or concern of what anyone thinks, so that will be a reward in itself.

PEACE! Til Saturday, take care of yourself.