That the Weather Pixie doesn't point out.
The Wind Chill Factor.
Yup. Today, it's -28 degrees. With the wind chill factored in there, it FEELS like -40.
That's -40. That's the same in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.
I am not looking forward to going out and facing the day.
The Wind Chill Factor.
Yup. Today, it's -28 degrees. With the wind chill factored in there, it FEELS like -40.
That's -40. That's the same in both Fahrenheit and Celsius.
I am not looking forward to going out and facing the day.
Check the weather pixie. The temperature is in degrees Celsius. It hurts.
So...
I got a full-time job.
Am I happy? Not particularly.
It's at the University, and I know that I like the people, and the work won't be difficult. It also guarantees me about 35 hours a week and pays nearly twice as much as TBS. There's benefits, and possibilities for advancement. It's great.
So why the hell do I feel like such an ass?
I'm loving TBS. I'm not even quitting TBS. I'll work at the uni one or two days a week for training until the end of December, then start full-time. I was never guaranteed that the TBS job would last past Christmas anyway, but I'm hoping that I might be able to keep the odd evening or weekend shift, since I'm rather liking it there (see last post).
Money sure is nice to have, since it pays the rent and all that... but it sure as hell doesn't make you happy.
I got a full-time job.
Am I happy? Not particularly.
It's at the University, and I know that I like the people, and the work won't be difficult. It also guarantees me about 35 hours a week and pays nearly twice as much as TBS. There's benefits, and possibilities for advancement. It's great.
So why the hell do I feel like such an ass?
I'm loving TBS. I'm not even quitting TBS. I'll work at the uni one or two days a week for training until the end of December, then start full-time. I was never guaranteed that the TBS job would last past Christmas anyway, but I'm hoping that I might be able to keep the odd evening or weekend shift, since I'm rather liking it there (see last post).
Money sure is nice to have, since it pays the rent and all that... but it sure as hell doesn't make you happy.
Seriously.
I'm enjoying my work at The Body Shop. Whattup with that? I have goals that I can aspire to (ie: dollar value of sales I make...), goals that I can accomplish... goals that are tangible and that I see fulfilled in every end-of-day report, goals that I feel a little sad when we don't make (ie: today we were aiming for a certain amount, we ended about $1500 short of that).
The lighting in the shop mimics natural daylight, so it feels like I'm out in the sun each and every shift. My coworkers are nice, if some of them are a little young (ie: 17 and 18). No one has gotten pissy about the errors I've made yet, as we're all just learning. Even the district manager is supernice, and I ran into her at a completely unrelated store the other day, and she made time to chat for a few minutes! Having her in the store monitoring us is a pleasure!
I wish there was a way to make a career of it. But unfortunately it doesn't pay as much as I would need to, oh, say, make a living. I've been asked to interview for a position with the University (non-academic, I'm afraid - in the Housing office) over here, but don't want to take it until January so that I can continue to work at The Body Shop and get in some hours at FEP for Reflections. It pays nearly twice as much an hour as TBS does, but I'd have to commute in to Edmonton for it... We'll see how things pan out...
On a completely different note, I've learned that a glass of wine after 8 hours on my feet with very little to eat makes things very fuzzy...
I'm enjoying my work at The Body Shop. Whattup with that? I have goals that I can aspire to (ie: dollar value of sales I make...), goals that I can accomplish... goals that are tangible and that I see fulfilled in every end-of-day report, goals that I feel a little sad when we don't make (ie: today we were aiming for a certain amount, we ended about $1500 short of that).
The lighting in the shop mimics natural daylight, so it feels like I'm out in the sun each and every shift. My coworkers are nice, if some of them are a little young (ie: 17 and 18). No one has gotten pissy about the errors I've made yet, as we're all just learning. Even the district manager is supernice, and I ran into her at a completely unrelated store the other day, and she made time to chat for a few minutes! Having her in the store monitoring us is a pleasure!
I wish there was a way to make a career of it. But unfortunately it doesn't pay as much as I would need to, oh, say, make a living. I've been asked to interview for a position with the University (non-academic, I'm afraid - in the Housing office) over here, but don't want to take it until January so that I can continue to work at The Body Shop and get in some hours at FEP for Reflections. It pays nearly twice as much an hour as TBS does, but I'd have to commute in to Edmonton for it... We'll see how things pan out...
On a completely different note, I've learned that a glass of wine after 8 hours on my feet with very little to eat makes things very fuzzy...
My mom told me today that one of her coworkers has cancer.
Problem is, I know this coworker. I worked in that office one summer, and it was 4 months of sheer hell, with a few bright moments along the way. I was The Student, The Inexperienced, The "She's only here four months, no point training her, or letting her do anything remotely important."
There were, however, a couple of people in that office that went out of their way to teach me new things, let me do new tasks, learn about the ins and outs of that particular governmental department. Kathy was one of those bright spots. Her bubbly personality made it a pleasure to work with her and she continues to ask after me and find out how I'm doing.
And now she has cancer. Not "oh, good thing we caught it early, so let's eradicate it" cancer. Not "Hm, this doesn't look good, but we have several options available" cancer. Nope. It's "this is bad, we'll try chemo but..." cancer.
And she's alone.
Her kids have moved out, scattered across the country, and she's divorced...
And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Why does it always take the good ones? Why did it mess with Vicki? Why did it take Bev a little over a year ago? And why Kathy now? Why can't it mess with someone in my life that I can just go "oh, that's too bad", and leave it at that?
Dammit, I feel so bloody small and useless...
Problem is, I know this coworker. I worked in that office one summer, and it was 4 months of sheer hell, with a few bright moments along the way. I was The Student, The Inexperienced, The "She's only here four months, no point training her, or letting her do anything remotely important."
There were, however, a couple of people in that office that went out of their way to teach me new things, let me do new tasks, learn about the ins and outs of that particular governmental department. Kathy was one of those bright spots. Her bubbly personality made it a pleasure to work with her and she continues to ask after me and find out how I'm doing.
And now she has cancer. Not "oh, good thing we caught it early, so let's eradicate it" cancer. Not "Hm, this doesn't look good, but we have several options available" cancer. Nope. It's "this is bad, we'll try chemo but..." cancer.
And she's alone.
Her kids have moved out, scattered across the country, and she's divorced...
And there's not a damn thing I can do about it.
Why does it always take the good ones? Why did it mess with Vicki? Why did it take Bev a little over a year ago? And why Kathy now? Why can't it mess with someone in my life that I can just go "oh, that's too bad", and leave it at that?
Dammit, I feel so bloody small and useless...
Awesome chimneys at Hampton Court Palace... They have a name for that particular architectural style, but damned if I can remember it. So for now they're just funky Tudor chimneys.
Me with some Roman tombstones at the Museum in Chester
This'll be me at Durham Cathedral. Too bad you can't see more of it, but there's only so much you can do with a camera on self-timer.
And this is the old Lavatory at Housesteads ruined fort on Hadrian's Wall
This is myself and Ali outside the York Minster Library. The bag I'm holding is random stuff that I posted home 'cuz I was already sick of hauling it around in my backpack.
Eilean Donan Castle, near Skye in Scotland
Dun Carloway Broch, Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland
Statue of a Herring girl, Stornoway, Isle of Lewis
Looking out over Edinburgh at Arthur's Seat from Edinburgh Castle.
My friend K in the oldest house in Glasgow (15th century).
Twisted steeple of St. Peter's Church, Barnstaple, Devon. Years of sun beating down on the steeple have warped the lead in the roof.
Saint James' Church, Swimbridge, Devon. Some of my ancestors are buried 'round the back of the church.
Me at a thatch-roofed restaurant in Burley, in the New Forest, down near Bournemouth
King's College Chapel, Cambridge. Notice how bright it is? How blue the sky? How green the grass? Yeah?
Well guess what.
I came home to this:
This is my parents' back deck. AFTER we shovelled off all the snow.
Ew.
This'll be me at Durham Cathedral. Too bad you can't see more of it, but there's only so much you can do with a camera on self-timer.
And this is the old Lavatory at Housesteads ruined fort on Hadrian's Wall
This is myself and Ali outside the York Minster Library. The bag I'm holding is random stuff that I posted home 'cuz I was already sick of hauling it around in my backpack.
Eilean Donan Castle, near Skye in Scotland
Dun Carloway Broch, Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides, Scotland
Statue of a Herring girl, Stornoway, Isle of Lewis
Looking out over Edinburgh at Arthur's Seat from Edinburgh Castle.
My friend K in the oldest house in Glasgow (15th century).
Twisted steeple of St. Peter's Church, Barnstaple, Devon. Years of sun beating down on the steeple have warped the lead in the roof.
Saint James' Church, Swimbridge, Devon. Some of my ancestors are buried 'round the back of the church.
Me at a thatch-roofed restaurant in Burley, in the New Forest, down near Bournemouth
King's College Chapel, Cambridge. Notice how bright it is? How blue the sky? How green the grass? Yeah?Well guess what.
I came home to this:
This is my parents' back deck. AFTER we shovelled off all the snow.
Ew.
No, really, I hurt.
The store I'm now working at is in the mall nearest my 'rents, as mentioned previously. It is also brand-spanking new. As in, it finally opened at 11 a.m. yesterday, a mere 1.5 hours behind schedule. Now, this in itself is not a bad thing. In fact, it's a good thing. We've been wanting a Body Shop in this neck of the woods for a long long time... What is a bad thing, however, is the pain I've been through in the last few days as a result of working my ass off to help ensure that that 1.5 hours wasn't any longer than it was.
I went in on Tuesday for 8 hours. This mostly meant ripping open shipment pallets, opening cardboard boxes, hauling cardboard boxes from the loading dock to our store half way down the mall, generally wrecking my hands in the process (seriously, they look like I've been taking paper to myself and just cutting back and forth). Wednesday was 12 hours of the same. Luckily I at least got to wear comfy shoes, but let's face it, I'm a pampered office girl. I'm not used to 'hard labour'. I work in places where you get to sit down. And then 6 hours yesterday in high heels, followed by 8.5 hours today (switched shoes to flats halfway through)... My feet, legs, and back are killing me, my arms are an interesting pattern of red, black blue, green and purple (and other fun bruise-y colours), and I'm ready to curl up in a little ball and sleep for a week. I know it'll get easier, and I'm still enjoying the job (yeah, I know, I've only been on it less than a week - but guess what?! I've already been promoted to keyholder!), but I could really use a massage right now...
The store I'm now working at is in the mall nearest my 'rents, as mentioned previously. It is also brand-spanking new. As in, it finally opened at 11 a.m. yesterday, a mere 1.5 hours behind schedule. Now, this in itself is not a bad thing. In fact, it's a good thing. We've been wanting a Body Shop in this neck of the woods for a long long time... What is a bad thing, however, is the pain I've been through in the last few days as a result of working my ass off to help ensure that that 1.5 hours wasn't any longer than it was.
I went in on Tuesday for 8 hours. This mostly meant ripping open shipment pallets, opening cardboard boxes, hauling cardboard boxes from the loading dock to our store half way down the mall, generally wrecking my hands in the process (seriously, they look like I've been taking paper to myself and just cutting back and forth). Wednesday was 12 hours of the same. Luckily I at least got to wear comfy shoes, but let's face it, I'm a pampered office girl. I'm not used to 'hard labour'. I work in places where you get to sit down. And then 6 hours yesterday in high heels, followed by 8.5 hours today (switched shoes to flats halfway through)... My feet, legs, and back are killing me, my arms are an interesting pattern of red, black blue, green and purple (and other fun bruise-y colours), and I'm ready to curl up in a little ball and sleep for a week. I know it'll get easier, and I'm still enjoying the job (yeah, I know, I've only been on it less than a week - but guess what?! I've already been promoted to keyholder!), but I could really use a massage right now...
