Showering with the Damned

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There’s this little boutique-y shop downtown that makes its money by selling small portions of its floorspace to the REALLY small business craftsperson.  The business is kinda like the farmer’s markets that pop up in cities all over the country, only year round and with the comfort of HVAC.

I’ve often bounced around the idea of renting my own floor space in the place to open up a new visibility point for my chainmaille.

Aaaaaanyway….This particular boutique has a stall for this craftsperson who makes soap.
It’s fantastic stuff, this handcrafted soap.  They add colors in swirls, make the stuff smell amazing, and the bars get their intended job done.  My favorite scent (of the moment) is an almond/cherry mix, although I’ve also been particular to their sandalwood spice mix in the past.

So, last night, shower happened.  Here I am, sudsing up without a care in the world, and I look…really LOOK… at my bar of sweet & bubbly solidly saponified fat…

I looked up soap-making quite some time ago…fascinating process!

And it occurred to me that there’s a rather demonic face being rubbed all over my…

let’s just say…

feminine bits.

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A bit TMI?

Not sure if I should use the rest of the bar, or craft a protective circle around it and attempt to exorcise the demon?

Evil shouldn’t smell this sweet…

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T(ISFOYC)IF!

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Thank (Insert Supernatural Figure of your Choosing) it’s FRIDAY!

Today is Friday.  For millions of people in the states, that means the end of the workweek, and the appreciation of 2 whole days in the immediate future where you don’t have to sell your labors to continue to be warm, fed, sheltered, entertained, and amused.

Granted, we still have to get through the final day of the workweek – but, hey…who doesn’t slack a little on the nine to fiver when Friday afternoon rolls around?

maxresdefaultI did, briefly, have a genuine 9-5+paid lunch!  I also got two ‘breaks’ within the day, but those were assigned to run to the post office (one to pick up mail, one to drop off mail…) so they don’t count.  A ‘break’ from work, in my mind, means I have time for a snack and a book.  Driving my car to the middle of the village to do the mail is NOT a break…it’s a task.

This particular nine to fiver was office ‘manager’ for a small Real Estate firm.  Unlike most management positions – I had nobody who answered to me – everyone answered to the Broker/owner of the firm.  I had a title, and a list of ‘things’ to manage, but I think you’ll agree the title was pretty much name only.

Still…the title would have looked impressive on a resume if I’d decided to list the position on it.

It was one of the two jobs where I got soundly fired.  It really sucks when personal ethics get in the way of job performance…

See – the broker in this small firm had a daughter.  The daughter was one of the agents at the firm.  The daughter, like many other young women in this country, had a couple of kids, was a single mom, struggled to make ends meet, and accepted county assistance available to her.

So, in Early October, when the Broker announced daughter would be getting no additional commission checks in the year (to stay below income caps on child-care assistance) and instead would have all daughter’s commissions paid out to HER, instead – well…I couldn’t stay silent.

Silence, in this case, could quickly morph into accessory to fraud.

Yes, I will fully admit, I handled the situation badly.  I was bald and harsh in my refusal to alter any upcoming payroll/commission records.  I did, in fact, use the term ‘cooking the books.’

Predictably, I got rank and file.  I got the ‘How DARE you’s,’ and the ‘Where do YOU come off telling ME how to run MY business?’  I got yelled at until the Broker was an amusing shade of purple.

And I got the demand to clean out the desk.

The funny part?  After the personal stuff was packed in the car and I was on my way home as an unemployed person (oh…the shame?) – I stopped at the Temp Agency I’d worked through before this job, and let them know I was, once again, available for work.

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They put me in a position THAT AFTERNOON.  Granted, it was on a shop floor.  Very physical labor pounding the warp out of engine parts.  The Temp Agent said “I figured you needed something to burn off some of that aggravation.”

 

 

Fired in the AM – at a new job by noon…banging away at metal while imagining a very specific set of faces within the mottled surfaces.

 

 

 

It’s the little things that make your day…

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A couple of months ago, I put out a post about ways to amuse yourself at work when you are sitting on hold.  Or, rather…how I amuse myself when I sit on hold…

Today – I got an extra-special message interspersed with the tinny Muzak tinkering in my ear.:

“You are number…one…in the queue.”

finally – someone noticed 😀

JUSTIFICATION!