In which I am tired and also wrong

20980680So as it turns out, it appears that I got Raised Right in at least one respect: I have a pretty fuckin’ healthy work ethic, and despite being down to five shifts left at my job I think it’s fair to say that I worked my ass off for at least the last couple of days, and Monday was an exhausting mess for a number of reasons as well.  And I strongly suspect I will continue deliberately outhustling everyone around me just out of pure spite until I actually leave the job for good on August 8th.  I’m back for Saturday and Sunday and then taking my last week of vacation, which I hope to spend working hard on a book, but we all know how good I am with follow-through on those sorts of plans.  I did finish a short story this week, though!  One I plan to submit to a market, and once I get rejected, put on Patreon!  So that’s exciting.

(You should be one of my Patrons.  One, because the next one is number ten, and that seems like a big deal, and two, because I post stories and stuff over there and there will be a Special Project over there soon too that I’m planning on working on this weekend.)

Anyway, point is, I’m not lazing about just because I’m quitting, and I’m tired because this week has been especially busy.

On to being wrong: I read the first little chunk of Kate Elliott’s Black Wolves in … 2016, maybe?  And I hated it, cutting out early and one-starring it on Goodreads.  For no clear reason I got a wild hair up my ass about it a couple of weeks ago and decided to reread it, and while it took a while, the book being damn near eight hundred pages long, I finished it last night.

And, uh, loved it, and put it on my best of 2018 shortlist, and found out that the sequel isn’t coming out until December of 2020, and oh God that’s too long, and while I don’t have the energy for a full review right now?  I don’t know what the hell I was thinking the first time I read the book and you should consider checking it out.

Yeah.  Got that one wrong.

Please stand by

middle-finger-poster-flag-6185-pSo, remember last week, when I pointed out that you can vacuum an entire furniture store in three hours?  Not quite entirely accurate.  It was half of a furniture store, strictly speaking.  To do the other half requires more like six hours, as there’s a shitload more stuff to navigate around and the fucking phone won’t stop ringing and absolutely everything is twenty-five times more complicated than it needs to be– the question “Is the chest that I ordered in the store?” literally took two of us two hours to answer at one point– and by the end of the day you still aren’t done and it would have been maybe nice if your co-worker had listened to you when you said you’d like to get started with the back of the store while he was still there and able to fend off phones and customers while you were cleaning.

Also it requires a fifty-foot extension cord, as there are not remotely enough outlets on the other side of the store.

The president of our company will be in the store tomorrow, along with several other notables.  In the course of the last six days I have personally glass-cleaned, dusted, cleaned, vacuumed and re-price-tagged literally nearly every square foot of the store.  I am not exaggerating or lying when I say I am personally responsible for a good 80% of the cleaning that has happened in the last week, with one other person being responsible for most of the rest. And the job is still not done, with maybe four hours of open time before the Lord High Muckety-Mucks arrive at noon tomorrow, because I just flat ran out of fucking time and there was too much shit to do.

If I hear one word– one single fucking syllable— of criticism about how the store looks, from anyone, ranging from the president of the company to the store manager to one of my co-workers, most of whom did not lift a single finger to help …

Well, there’s gonna be some fuckin’ drama, goddammit.  I’ve got one foot out the door, eleven shifts and a week of vacation left as I sit here in my recliner at home typing this, and I have absolutely no reason to not speak my Gatdamb mind if it comes to that.

Pray for me.  Or, hell, pray for the poor bastards who set me off if it comes to that.   I don’t much care which.

In which I live to serve, but not for much longer

butler-rhettActual Fiction has happened today; not much, but nonetheless Actual Fiction, so I feel pretty good about the universe right now.  I was supposed to spend the morning taking care of my last Act of Ridiculous Customer Service (why, sure, I’ll drive to Michigan and pick up the seat of your armless chair and drop it off at the leather reconditioning place so you don’t have to do it!  Why not?) but the timing ended up not working out so I’m probably doing that tomorrow.

This will be the last time I drive anywhere for a customer, which pleases me.  It probably seems slightly more unreasonable than it actually is, at least in my head; I don’t always have a lot to do on my days off and if I’m just going to spend the day on the couch playing video games or staring at HGTV I may as well drive for a bit and listen to some podcasts instead, y’know?  Yeah, gas costs money, but so does everything else, so I’m not going to worry about it all that much.

Anyway.  The world seems to be a bit more on fire than usual this week and there’s a Big Corporate Visit coming next week at work so I’ve been mostly keeping my head down.  Anything going on out there that doesn’t involve disaster?