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.