Pick Me!

My boss came out today to inform me that I have been given the new store that is opening in my local centre. This is something I have been working towards since starting with the company and I am truly excited to get to open a brand new store as well as being able to work 10 minutes from my house.
It is also a new layout and all the fittings and merchandising will be much better than in the store I have now.
It will be interesting to see which staff I end up with but it doesn't phase me all that much. I was pleasantly surprised to be offered the store since I am so new and relieved my probation period is also complete as of this month.
The next four weeks will be spent polishing my knowledge before leaving the relative comfort of my current store as well as planning the stocking and opening of my new one.
Aside from the mystery bruise/lump on the back of my left hand, I am feeling pretty good right now. I have no idea what I did to my hand (must be the mystery boyfriend beating me again), maybe I should call 'my policeman' and report it?
On that note.. back to my low profile.

Smite Me, Oh Mighty Smiter!

Two incidents stand out over the stress of the past week as evidence of 'The Smiting of Mel'.

Firstly there is the fact that a policeman thinks I am the victim of domestic violence. This is thanks to one of my cats... Cleo. After a particularly violent battle to confine her majesty in her travel box to move her to my new place I was bleeding from two enormous gashes on my forearm. The next day they were looking nasty and weren't covered by the sleeve of my work shirt.

While boxing the diamond studs a customer purchased, he gestured to my scratches and asked how I got them. I told him briefly, embarrassed that they were that obvious. His reply was 'so it wasn't your boyfriend then?'. I blushed and of course said no. One of my staff jumped in and was joking around saying it was, that I come in with bruises etc all very lighthearted. As the guy was about to leave, he passed me a business card, face down across the desk and said to call him 'if I ever need him'. I turned it over after he left to discover he was a policeman. My staff loved it. The rest of the day they told everyone 'my boss has been attacked and the police are involved'. Also teasing me that I had an admirer.

Just when I thought my day wasn't going to get any more humiliating, the Second Smiting occurred. I put it down to Karma. I have been making fun one of the boys at work for having a car accident while talking on his phone. I think I even used the exact words 'If you are going to talk on your phone while driving, at least be good at it'. Monday night as I was backing out of my car space, talking on the phone when I heard the most awful scraping sound. To cut a very long and embarrassing story short I managed to rip my front bumper right off on the pole I had parked next to. I am now driving around with it in the back of my car. Not good.

Between moving house, juggling my pets and my mum's dog, breaking up juvenile arguments at work, crashing my car, being humiliated in front of my staff and avoiding 'The Man' it has been a draining week. I am tired, embarrassed, frustrated and broke! So far am much happier in the new place then I thought I would be! Now I just need to sell the other house and get straight
and I will have some money, hopefully a holiday and some fun!

Hopefully I am not part of God's entertainment this week. I think it is time to cultivate a 'low profile'.

It's Here

Moving day is tomorrow. I feel better about it than I did yesterday. Still nervous as to how I will feel once it is all done. Am also dreading getting the house on the market. It seems like there is way too much work to be done before that can happen.
I could be offline for a little while as the net has to be disconnected here and reconnected at the other end. I will try and check in soon and write about how it all went. Document the trauma for your entertainment!
So far all that has been broken is one vase and one lamp. Not a bad effort really. The big stuff gets moved tomorrow so hopefully I am not speaking too soon.
I also get to move the pets tomorrow. A gargantuan task. The menagerie on the move. I hope they cope ok.
This entry is pretty dull hey? Well, too bad. I am sleepy! Off to sleep for the last time in my little house....

No Place Like Home

Packing the last few things in my house is depressing the hell out of me. I am feeling down about leaving this place behind.
Leaving the life that I thought I would have when I moved in. Leaving the memories, good and bad. Leaving that comfortable familiarity.
A final admission that things fell apart, that I can't afford to stay and that my new direction in life is so unclear.
I am particular about my home. It's my refuge. My space. I don't like that to be disrupted. I feel uneasy and lost.
Maybe I'll be really happy once I am settled in the new place. Maybe the fresh start will inspire a happiness I haven't felt for years.
Right now I am trying to keep it together. Trying to focus on what needs to be done rather than sit in a corner and sook. As tempting as that is.
My friends say I am strong. I don't feel it now. I am trying not to show how much this is bothering me. There are more important things for the people around me to worry about at the moment.
Maybe retail therapy is the answer. Go buy some stuff for my new place. Shopping can fix everything...

The Joys of Retail

What is it about working in retail that makes customers think your life is an open book? That they are allowed to ask you personal questions, make recommendations and comment on things that are none of their business?
I would hardly walk into an office and launch into a critique of how the workers look or take a seat next to them and ask when they are getting married.
We are meant to laugh it off and work around people's rudeness. I mean, it's ok when it's a nice customer who is asking general questions like 'how long have you worked here?' etc. When they start asking about your last break up or questions you about your looks etc it gets a little hard to resist telling them to get their own life.
Tragically I work in a highly ethnic area where the people (especially middle aged women) think nothing of asking why you don't have kids or telling you to go on a diet.
Marriage is a favourite of theirs. They spot my diamond ring (not worn on my wedding finger) and ask what happened. Comment on how horrible it is that I am not engaged now. It would never occur to them that maybe I am happily single. That I might be strong enough to prefer being alone than in a relationship that is not working. My ex could be an axe murderer and they would still think it's sad things didn't work out between us.
It's tempting to lie. To say he died in a freak accident. Tell them he fell into a mincing machine or something. Just for laughs.
Just because they spend their life chained to the kitchen sink, raising the kids and making lunch for their husbands doesn't mean I aspire to the same idea of 'domestic bliss'.
I had a charming lady the other day say 'you have such a beautiful face. You just need to slim down a bit and you would be stunning'. A wonderful backhanded compliment from a leathery old bag who's hair was thinning on top.
Perhaps she would like to come over to my place and offer her opinion on my house, furniture, car and wardrobe.
It doesn't get me down at all. Just amazes me how inappropriate people can be. Stuns me that they can look past their own inadequacies long enough to comment on mine.
It would be interesting to see what would happen if I offered them the same level of personal advice. 'So, what made you team that leopard print top with the blue tracksuit pants?' or 'Wow, how many kids have you had, you have quite a belly there. Must be handy to rest drinks on'.
'Have you ever considered waxing that moustache?'
For now I save those comments for the entertainment of my colleagues after the customer has left. My revenge consists of whispered bitchy remarks, inflated prices and intentionally recommending the ugliest, tackiest shit I can find.