A Little Rant About My New Manager.

One of the reasons I am so happy I am moving to Reading in October is that I won't have to go to work every weekend anymore. My father doesn't want me to have a job while I do my MA (and I'm not going to argue), and also, it would be quite hard to commute to Coventry just for a crappy job in the Cash Office of *insert well-known DIY shop here*. The reasons I hate my job are manifold, but the main reason is quite recent.
I have a new line manager. When our old Store Manager (he was harsh but fair and the only superior to ever apologise to me) left and the Senior Sales Manager took his place (she's rubbish, but let's not discuss more than one crappy manager at once), a new Senior Sales Manager arrived. His name was Roger. He was a complete idiot. Seriously, I could have done his job better without any training at all, even if I hadn't finished secondary school. So, because he wasn't very good at his job, they took half of it away and gave it to Kay, who is awesome and lovely. I was very happy, because the half they took away was managing the Back Office, which the Cash Ofice belongs to. When Roger was transferred to another store, his place was taken by Carol. The first time I met Carol, I was sitting in the canteen talking to a colleague and she interrupted me mid-sentence to ask 'where you from?' I thought this was quite rude, but giving her the benefit of doubt I went through the tediousness of telling her I am Dutch, hearing her say she thought I was South-African, and telling her that my name was pronounced Meryl, NOT Meggggggrel. This is a reasonably normal procedure of introduction for me at work, for colleagues and customers alike. I didn't think too much of it, and was only a little bit startled by her abruptness.
That was before she snapped at me for no apparent reason. I had heard stories from full-time collleagues (I only work Saturday and Sunday mornings) about her complete lack of good manners and any semblance of humanity, but I know the people I work with so I took it all with a pinch of salt. Then, last Saturday, I came in to work extremely tired because I'd been having nightmares that kept me awake. Margaret on the desk, who used to be really strict but since the realignment thinks what all of us have always thought: Fuck *insert well-known DIY shop here*. She 'explained' this really complicated problem to me that they hadn't been able to solve, but they had, of course, tried to phone Random Lady at the Base who was unreachable. I still have no idea who she is, but apparently she knows how to solve things to do with vouchers, so fine. The problem was really complicated, I think mainly because I was tired and they didn't explain it very well. I always think, when something complicated has happened you have to explain it like the other person is an idiot because otherwise you will just confuse them, but apparently Margaret and Carol go for the other approach, which is called throw-as-much-complicated-information-at-the-tired-cash-office-girl-as-possible-in-the-hope-something-sticks. So I sort of thought I knew what had happened, but then it turned out all of this had happened on Thursday (I found this out about 3 hours later because I did my own work first and then tried to help other people, like any good Samaritan would), and not on Friday, so I could do absolutely nothing about it. When I talked to Carol and Margaret again, we decided to just do a refund on the till that was £17 short on this fake code, and to ask Random Lady at the Base when she came to visit the following week what we should do next time. So, we did the refund and I discussed with Carol how and what to do, and I asked/said, to confirm we both knew what we were doing, 'So, we should probably still talk to Random Lady at the Base next week, right?' To which she said: 'You don't have to tell me what to do, I know what my job is!!'
Now, I know I can be a bit sensitive sometimes, but I really thought that was out of line. All I did was make sure we both knew what was going to happen (even though I still had no clue what had actually happened to cause the problem), and she treated me like I had wanted to start a fight with her! To make sure, when Carol had left, I asked Margaret whether I was crazy or Carol was really rude, and she said 'Psh, that was mild for her!' So now I know my colleagues haven't been exaggerating, and that for once, their complaints about the villainous nature (can you tell I've been reading Shakespeare?) of our new manager are completely grounded in reality. I was talking to Kay, thinking 'Thank God Kay is still my line manager and not evil Carol' when she told me that since Carol was actually capable of doing her job, she was now my line manager. I have to tell you, it made my day. And not in a good way.
On Sunday, Carol asked/commanded while I was refilling the change drawer before going home, 'When you leaving?' (she never really uses verbs in questions, too much effort I guess). I was gonna say 'well, after I've done this and given someone my safe key', when she explained herself: 'when you leaving the store, cos I need to find a replacement?' I told her I wasn't sure because it depends on whether I can find a full-time job somewhere else, and I am quite busy with exams right now but I would let her know as soon as possible. She then expressed her wonder at why I needed a job somewhere else if I could fill one of her cashier jobs during the summer. I wanted to shoot her but politely said I would let her know. The last thing I want to do is become a cashier again, so I am going to try my hardest to find a job somewhere else so I don't have to put up with Carol or the annoying customers we get. I am used to the tranquility of the Cash Office now, and can completely see the appeal of a nice calm office job. I am going to be the anti-rebel; 9 to 5, here I come! And let's hope Carol stays where she is forever so I never have to see her again after I leave. Hooray for Reading!!!

EW! (and other things)

I gave in today and looked up Richard Grieco on imdb. I knew I would regret it, and I do. He looks, well, ehm, how to say this nicely.... Old. And like he's not lived very healthily. I don't know whether I will ever get this picture out of my head, and the worst thing is that he looks a little bit like Chico... and it is definitely NOT Chico time in my house. Ever. Anyways, I will get over it somehow. Little warning, tho: if you like Booker, don't look up Richard Grieco on imdb, it is not a pretty sight.
Also, it's my father birthday today! He's 44. It is quite young for a (very recent) grandfather, but the oldest my father has ever been so far, so I think he's ancient. Anyways, even though I know he does not read this, Gefeliciteerd Douwe!

You thought it was all over...

...but it isn't. Because today I learnt a valuable lesson. I learnt that a woman has to stick by her convictions and not be swayed by peer pressure (yes, I mean you, wench!), outside factors or haircuts. I learnt that looks are not everything. I learnt that, after all my doubts and changes of heart, I should have trusted my instinct.
And that instinct told me from the start that Doug Penhall is the man for me. He may be no Johnny Depp, or have the nicest haircut in the world, but today he proved to be the most perfect man I will ever find (any men wanting to disprove me are welcome). I cannot believe I let myself be swayed by Hanson's nice haircut and Booker's bad-boy attitude (the guy is a cop, how much of a bad boy can he be?), and that I strayed from the path of my true love. I have to send out a big apology to Penhall for doubting him. If the wench wants Hanson, she can have him. My heart will forever belong to Douglas Penhall, the most romantic and lovely man in the world of 80s tv.
Watch 'Come from the shadows' from series 4 of '21 Jump Street' to see what I mean. Or don't, and just believe me when I say: you would. But you are not allowed to, because he's mine.
Discussion closed. I will (try) not (to) write any more posts on the issue, because it is resolved in Penhall's favour.
Let me tell you, girls, don't let (changing) looks fool you: go for the guy you instinctly know is right. Or, you know, don't take life lessons from someone who wishes she could marry Penhall and have his little cop babies. Whatever.

I must be going insane...

...because last night I dreamt I was in my Shakespeare exam having to analyse the picture on the front of 'The Norton Shakespeare'. I did an okay job, linking it to Jaques' speech in 'As You Like It' about the seven stages of man (probably because it is about the last thing I read in my revision session yesterday). I won't bore you with the details, but somehow it worked.
I would still rather dream about Booker, though, so it's a good thing I have series 4 to watch tonight! (Well, not all of it, that would be really obsessive and tiring)

Tell-tale signs you are obsessed with '21 Jump Street'

- crying over an episode about homeless kids.
- knowing the names of all the characters and their partners.
- recognising actors that are being recycled from previous episode and knowing which part they played before.
- recognising the same pair of earrings that are worn by three different characters in three different episodes.
- being upset by the fact the producers of the show think you won't recognise the recycled actors/earrings.
- wishing you lived in the '21 Jump Street' world so you could meet Penhall, Hanson and Booker. - not looking up Richard Grieco on Imdb so you can keep a picture of him as Booker as the only version of him you'll ever know.
- being able to talk about the characters in the show as if they are real.
- dreaming you are going out with Booker, who arrests you, during sex, for using heroin. (I know, that is disturbing, isn't it?)

Maybe I should stop watching, but then again, how would I channel my exam stress? I don't really want to have disturbing dreams about Shakespeare, either...
(I took the picture from Imdb but didn't look for Richard Grieco!!)