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?

I give up

giphy-1Last night, I completely cracked the plot of the Skylights sequel wide open, for about the fourteenth time since finishing the original book– only this time it involves going back to the original draft of Sunlight that I got like 40,000 words into and then had to bail on, because I finally figured out how to make it work.

At this point the sequel to that book is going to be a foreword, 300 blank pages, and then the words “And then they all died” on page 301, because I am having that much trouble getting the plot to cohere.


In other news, despite the fact that I’ve put in notice at my job, there’s still a corporate visit next week and for some reason apparently I’m still expected to, like, do stuff around the store– I guess they don’t just pay me to sit on my ass and look at my phone for five weeks, or something nuts like that?  So I’ve been insanely busy at work for the last couple of days and tomorrow does not look like it’s going to be better.  I literally dusted every end table and coffee table in the entire store this evening.  Tomorrow I have to do the TV stands. I am crabby and sleepy and I have not had much brain left for bloggery when I get home.  I will, I hope, break myself of this habit tomorrow.


Seriously.  Email me some problems so I can do an advice column.  Otherwise I’m just gonna fictionalize the whole thing and that’s gonna lead to issues.

IT’S MY BIRTHDAY

“The Answer to the Great Question… Of Life, the Universe and Everything… Is… Forty-two,” said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.

…and if there’s a better way to describe me, on this, the first day of my 42nd year alive on this earth, than “infinite majesty and calm,” I want it caught and shot now.

I feel like as a lifelong devotee of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy I should be greeting this year with a certain amount of fear and trembling, or at least enthusiastic anticipation.  42 needs to be big, right?  But my plans for today amount to sitting around and maybe watching The Last Jedi on Netflix.  I don’t even think we’re going out for dinner tonight.  So … not so much.  I’ll probably do something awesome eventually, though.  We’ll see.

In the meantime, I haven’t sold a book on Amazon in a minute, so if you were interested in buying an inexpensive-yet-entertaining ebook or perhaps contributing to my Patreon, it would be much appreciated.  Whatever you end up contributing will be worth it, I promise.  Or, if you’ve read my books, reviews are the greatest thing ever.  Please?