A breather

Well people, I have internet, intermittently. I thought I'd take advantage of the fact that I have it this moment and say a big THANK YOU for all of you who have left me messages though this hard time. You just have NO clue how much it meant to me to see that. Especially you lurkers! Hi!

Without going into too much detail, the issues I'm dealing with right now are the Hunk now has legal issues and our financial situation is just...well I can't really say financial because wouldn't that sort of mean you had finances?

Target is being good to me. I have to say that. Real good. Maybe not huge money but I'm definitely getting pretty good hours in the average of 'Full-time'. I believe I have to be there 6 months to qualify for full time status to receive benefits, but even still, if I'm not full time by then (hopefully the Hunk will have worked his issues out and be working), I'll still qualify for part-time benefits. I'm not sure how good they are but anything is better than nothing.

I've just had 2 days in a row off (again, Target is so good to me!) and I spent almost every minute of it at social services. We applied for whatever benefits we might qualify for. No shame in asking for help right? Well, I did feel shame. Not in the asking but in the needing. Sitting there I just felt like I was betrayed and robbed of the life I had thought I was building, thought I was living, all over again. We qualified for food stamps and the boys qualified for medical but because I have a job I didn't qualify for cash assistance to help make ends meet. I was told it was for people that have no income. Same with medical coverage. So basically because I do have a job and I am trying to make ends meet, I don't get the last bit of added help. Isn't that sending me the message that I'd be better to just quit? Then I can get money AND medical? Ugh. I know there are people that try and abuse the system. I also know that there are people that absolutely have no job and are in super need of the help. I just hated feeling like I was being punished for at least trying to provide for my family. Blah, I don't want to think about it because in some aspects I feel like I'm a snob, and in others... I really hated being there with some of the stereotypes that fit the 'welfare' bill that I saw. I don't know. Anyway...

Speaking of work, it's going well. I don't like the going to work. It's hard to get up and go, knowing you have a full day ahead of you. That you aren't going to be able to come home for another 7-8 hours or more if you're on a closing shift. Once I'm there though, about the time I get my lunch, I'm glad I came. I feel like I can count that day productive, and know that I'm going to get paid for that day. Pay is good. For the most part the customers are nice. Not everyone I get through my lane take forever. I actually have conversations with some, of kids, school, stuff from the past ect.

This week I even prevented the store from loosing $508 (and change) in merchandise. The customer was trying to pawn off a fake check. Ha! Not in my lane bitch. I'm on to you. When your check has perforations on all four sides, as if it was ripped out of a sheet of cheeks... you so are caught. When your check number in the right hand corner is in a big font that matches none of the other fonts/sizes on the check... that's a clue. When you have just 1 check and do not rip it out of a check book, you look suspicious (even though some men, especially older gentleman usually just have a folded check their wives give them).

When you are trying to buy 2 cell phones that use pre-paid minutes, and 2 phone cards with HUGE amounts of minutes on them, and a ton of baby clothes, clothes, and 5 pairs of shoes, not to mention that you grabbed a pair of pants that say "skinny" and you so aren't (even though she decided to put those back before I was done ringing her up), you look really suspicous.

Needless to say, I called my supervisor over for "authorization due to such a high amount" and told him of my suspicions (quietly with my back turned, cause... I'm intimidated by 2 black women and a black man trying to use fake checks, no offense law abiding black people... but angry black women scare me..)

Anyway, my supervisor, who shall be called "ACS" (awesome, cool supervisor who I like to work with) told her that he'd need further identification and authorization and called "Chuck Logan" (our super sneaky way of calling security). She just got angry, told us to put the money back on her account and she'd pay with a credit card. We fixed the transaction and then she stalked off saying she didn't want the merchandise anymore. Uh huh. Yeah. She didn't have the money and she knew it. Security nabbed her picture from the security video and sent it out to all the Targets. :)

Either way, I got a card up on the Team member recognition board! Wee for me! That's the second fake check I've caught. The first was for 40 dollars on my second day and I just didn't trust myself enough and that woman left with the merchandise. Grr. I know better now though.

I even got to use a walky-talky today. Score! Oh, and I was covering one last break before I left today, and I had some old fart who was tweaking out of his mind (he could not stay still at all..) try to quick change scam me. I was on to him too. He got mad and stormed off after telling me I didn't know how to do my job. Heh. Yessss I dooo!

Wow, work sounds so much more interesting than what it really is.

We have some high school students working for us, and it's weird because they (the 2 I talk to) are pretty and popular (one is on Drill Team) and they so would not have given me a first look in HS, let alone a second and now they are all like happy to see me and they come and talk to me on my lane before/after their shift and call me sweetie and stuff and say how awesome I am. Weird. It only took, what 12... 13 years to become cool? Heh. Better late than never.

Ok, I'm heading off because my feet are tired. No, I don't type with my feet... I know there's no connection but it's the sad truth. My toes are begging for a lotion massage. Who am I to argue?