Heaven in Hard Times

I started work again yesterday, which is mostly a good thing, except for the part where I have to spend eight hours a day with someone I've hated since seventh grade (sometimes the world is too small), the coworker who obsessively matchmakes (and even if any of her suggestions were good, even if I were into the idea of dating guys right now [I am definitely more bisexual than I use to be, but not enough that I think "bisexual" is a more accurate descriptor than "lesbian"], how obvious she makes it what she considers "in my league" is SO BAD for my self-esteem, oh my God), and the guy who is mostly cool until he gets all Wise (I think most people have a phase where they have applied their superior common sense to all the world's problems and figured out how to fix them, except all their solutions come from massive privilege while simultaneously ignoring the existence of privilege, and none of them hold up when scrutinized. That's where he is.)

Also the part where I've been so tired the past two days I'm amazed I can still form words. My job requires no thought, so I spend all day writing fic in my head, but by the time I get home I can barely remember any of it, much less write any of it down. I've finished the Kevin/JWalk college AU something like six times in my head, and written a sequel (with fanmix!) for When I'm Around Her, and this really awesome (not to toot my own horn, but ~toot toot~) angsty Mike/Kevin high school AU, and none of it is ever going to get written because by the end of the day tomorrow I am going to collapse and sleep forever.

If that doesn't happen, though, only one person responded when I posted this drabble meme, so if you a) like my writing and b) would like to see my ego remain unbruised, there is still PLENTY OF ROOM to ask for something

I am on this big emo-ballad kick lately, and I wish that Vh1 show that hidden-cameras people singing in their cars was still on because I think my Everything We Had/What A Catch Donnie performances would earn me a spot for sure.

IDK why I'm so exhausted; I've been getting a full eight hours, give or take ten minutes at most, every night except Friday & Saturday, and since I nap most of the day Saturday & Sunday that shouldn't make a huge difference. And I'm not seeing any signs the sleep I'm getting is restless - if my sheets were all fucked up in the morning, or something, I'd get it. But there's no sign of bad sleep, and I'm still having trouble getting out of bed when my alarm goes off, still dragging ass by the end of the day. Today I took a half-hour nap even though I have a rule against napping on weekdays, and I'm already wanting to crawl into bed. Blah.

It doesn't help I've been having killer migraines like crazy lately; two Saturdays in a row I've woken up with a bad one that refuses to die, and I keep getting them at work. We have two warehouses, the one we usually work in and one across the street that's mostly there to get shit out of the way we work in every now and then. The crap warehouse has fluorescent lighting, and we've been checking cans/boxes for rust, which means having to scrutinize in crappy, dim lighting. AWESOME for my headaches, totally.

We have a four-day weekend coming up. Maybe I just need a break.

ETA: While I was in the shower, one of the cats decided to work on the sequel to I Don't Blame You For Being You:

Kevin blinks; the night before flashes into his head, more than he could remember before, and the second he sees it his face has to show it, 'cause Mike looks away.

"RRRRD1`N IU DSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXSSSS)_PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPVPI'm sorry, Kevin."

When I figure out which cat it was, I think I'll let her write my yuletide fic.

I was gonna not post anything until I got my concert photos edited, but I'm dragging ass on those so whatever.

First, you should all go claim a prompt at jonas_harlequin. BAD ROMANCE NOVEL PLOTS + JOBROS = YAY, and I want to see ALL THIS GARBAGE get claimed and written, because. BAD ROMANCE NOVEL JOBROS.

Second, I'm unemployed again :( I thought we had at least a week or two left, but on Friday (like, five minutes after I left for CT, apparently) Adecco called and said they don't need me next week, assignment's over. This is excellent timing, since I spent EVERY PENNY I HAD in Connecticut. I have one more paycheck coming, but it's a little one 'cause I skipped on Friday for JoBros. AWSUM. But. It's time for Christmas hiring, so finding a job shouldn't be too hard. I have it on good authority I'm top of the list for Adecco to call when PBM (where I've been the last monthish) needs temps, but there's no way of knowing when that's gonna be.

Third, I am kind of in love with Joe Jonas right now. WHY DID I EVER RESIST, he is a delight.

work today got so bad I actually cried. AWESOME

initially I was just having one of those days - slept like shit, couldn't get moving this morning, didn't have anything I wanted for lunch, etc. We have to wear smocks at the warehouse, and they'd only sent over Large, and of course the best way to start any day is forcing yourself into clothes two sizes too small (bonus awesome, being the only one in the room having that problem).

At least I was doing a job that didn't require me to wear my smock; of course, that wasn't much of a refuge, 'cause there had been full-time people from the plant working in our warehouse over the weekend and they made a giant fuckup of things. So instead of doing my nice laid-back easy fun job that's my favorite, it took me an hour and a half to clean up their disaster.

And on top of that, Tracy (our line leader, sort of a...head temp, idk) showed me how to fill out the label sheets for the rework bags so she could clean up some of the other messes the weekend idiots had made. And I fucked up part of that, which was entirely my fault, I completely failed to think...but because the way I fucked it up was the same way the weekend people had fucked up a bunch of other bags, she just assumed my 3-bag fuckup was a 25-bag fuckup. I'm still not entirely sure she heard (or believed?) me when I told her I'd just screwed up the 3, I had no idea about the other 20-odd.

So I was already in an AWESOME mood at this point, and then when I was helping Tracy and Amy with a different job, one of the lift drivers came over and told us the people stacking cans weren't doing it right. I was one of the people who'd spent 45 minutes on Friday figuring out how to stack them after our boss decided how many cans needed to be put on per layer without bothering to figure out if that was even possible. And after we spent all that time figuring it out, we WROTE IT DOWN for the next people. So Tracy sent me over to show them how to do it...and they gave me shit for trying to show them what to do when apparently someone had told them they were doing it okay. And then one guy (who I HATE, SO MUCH) made fun of me for having trouble getting my smock back on, decided not to wait for me to get my smock back on, stacked half the pallet wrong despite knowing I was there to show him how to do it right, and then goofed off enough to drop a can on the floor (we get shit for that, 'cause cans that hit the floor are no good, have to go to animal-feed rework).

And halfway through that layer boss comes over and says he wants us to stack the pallets the way I suggested before all the shit on Friday, 6 layers of 80 instead of 4 of 96. FFFFFFFFFFFFF.

So by this point I'm so tense and angry I'm fucking vibrating, I go back to my rework job because I do that alone and I CANNOT DEAL WITH PEOPLE right then...and twenty minutes later Tracy pulls me aside, says she wishes she didn't have to bring this up but some people apparently have a problem with how sarcastic I am and have complained about it to boss, so I need to tone it down because if enough people bring it up, I could get fired.

That was the point at which, having run out of rework, I went to stack boxes because the stacks are high and I could hide behind them so when I failed at trying not to cry it was okay.

OH OH, and. I didn't bring lunch because we didn't have anything I liked, so I was just gonna stop at the gas station and get something? I drove all the way up there on lunch break...only to find I'd left my wallet at home.

Work today sucked like Hell. I started the day by forgetting my sneakers, so I had to borrow a pair that were a half-size too small - almost tolerable, except they were steel-toe so there was no give, and they were narrow up there. Sooo I'm pretty sure after 8 hours on my feet in those I'll never walk again.

And today we were running the labeler, and I ended up stacking the packed boxes on the pallet, which is usually my favorite job when we have the labeler going - it's the most labor-intensive (yes! I actually like doing the least lazy thing sometimes), and it's one of the few jobs that takes some thinking (not much, but there a couple specific rules about how to stack the boxes...it's like doing a 100-piece puzzle when everyone else is doing a 50) so the day goes by a lot faster for me. BUT the last time we ran the labeler there were two of us stacking, and I didn't take that into account, and there was no fan today. So my arms are KILLING me and I am exhausted right to my bones. And I think we're still labeler-ing tomorrow, too.

Whatev. I've spent the evening unwinding with fic, both reading and writing. Here, please enjoy this implausible, cracktacular, AU setup for a JoBros/Black Rebel Motorcycle Club fic.

It started as a joke, a drunk-stoned-probably-more phone call to someone they'd met while working out the New Moon soundtrack thing, a name they recognized from the ending credits of something moronic on the Disney channel and a suggestion Nick made (that might not have been a joke, it's hard to tell with him).

Of course, as these things go, they maybe kept the joke going too long, because it was funnier when it turned out they were the only ones who got it, and either Disney's less anal than rumored about who they associate with or their background checks suck; either way, Pete's smoking outside a Disney soundstage, while Nick's off somewhere shadowing the gayest Jonas brother (which is like talking about the wettest ocean, but hey) and Rob's seething but not actually doing anything to stop their brush with Disney stardom.

I should've known better than to talk about liking my job, because when the universe knows I'm happy, the universe makes corrections (that's a GREAT ATTITUDE, no?)

Today the containers we needed didn't show up until 8; we worked until our break at 9 and then the manager came out and told us we were being sent over to the main plant (we work at a warehouse that's only open when they need it and mostly staffed by temps) for today, tomorrow, and all of next week. The two women who've worked at the main plant before groaned. THAT WAS A GOOD SIGN. Also a good sign: the manager said they'd told him we might need to stay until four today. The sort of people who randomly change your hours mid-workday are generally the sort of people who REALLY CARE about their employees!

Anyway we needed to be at the plant by 10, so we got there and got all sanitized and suited up (they are CRAZY about cleanliness, which makes sense because they make food, but OMG IT SUCKS. We have to wear long-sleeved long-pantsed JUMPSUITS, and GLOVES, and HAIRNETS. There is no AIR CONDITIONING. It is EXCESSIVELY HOT. [Especially since the ONLY PLACE THEY COULD POSSIBLY SET US UP was right next to the OVENS. Ovens which are ON. AND HOT.])...and then WAITED. For AN HOUR. Had they let us stay at the warehouse until they actually needed us, we could have gotten some work done, which would have been VASTLY PREFERABLE to sitting in the cafeteria in JUMPSUITS AND HAIRNETS, slowly roasting.

The plant is all fluorescent lighting, which is going to be a BIG ISSUE because that's the one trigger that gives me migraines that WILL NOT DIE - I've never had a fluorescent light migraine that I could get rid of without letting it take its course. We can turn the lights off in our little area, which is fine because we have big windows, but that didn't help much. I'm gonna have to see how it works out tomorrow, since today I already had a headache going in, but just from hour between coming back from lunch and turning the lights off I was almost unable to function.

ALSO 90% of my work wardrobe is skirts because they're so much cooler - I CANNOT WEAR SKIRTS with the stupid jumpsuits. If the lighting issue doesn't render me incapable of working next week I'm gonna be wearing the same, like, two pairs of capris alllll week. AWSUM.

When I bitched about all this to my dad, he was sympathetic. When I bitched to Mom, she just said "well, you should've looked for another job. You know you don't like factory work." DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE I'VE LOVED WORK FOR THE LAST TWO WEEKS ugh pay attention.

work was basically miserable

I knew it would be, it was a crappy warehouse job through the temp agency and I wasn't exactly expecting wondrous things from "we need 30 temps to pack pants lolol".

actually I didn't end up packing pants. There is a big moving line of clothes on hooks that get scanned and go on to magic clothing sales land. Sometimes, clothes fall off the hooks. I pick them up. And put them back on. Or! The barcodes aren't in quite the right place for the scanner. So I take the clothes that didn't get scanned and either rehang them to try again, or scan them to print a new code sticker, stick it on, and then rehang.

I do this for eight hours, minus two 15-minute breaks and an hour for lunch, in a poorly-ventilated warehouse with no air conditioning. There are fans. The person in charge of the fans didn't see fit to keep them on all the time. It was 80 degrees today. I had the beginnings of a migraine by 10 and was nauseous all afternoon.

I live less than five minutes from the place; I was tempted to go home during lunch to sit in my air-conditioned room but I thought I might be too tempted to crawl into my air-conditioned bed for an air-conditioned nap and never go back

whatever. I keep telling myself this is way better motivation to keep looking for a decent job than sitting at home watching Daria all the time (because, really, what job is better than that, and what job isn't better than warehouse hell?), and I get to earn money while I'm getting motivated

now excuse me I'm gonna go see if I fit in our big freezer