rightangles: (Default)
Oh, boy, journal! It's been too long! I've wanted to write a post for quite a few days, but I never got around to it! I've been busy busy busy busy! If I can remember everything I've wanted to mention here over the past month or so, this is going to be a very, very long post. So get comfy!

First on the agenda: my job! I'm still working at Best Buy; I had my one-month anniversary a few days ago. I've already been promoted once, too, from part-time to full-time, including a small pay raise. I'll get benefits in a few months, too, which will be wonderful! I'll finally be able to go to the doctor's when something is wrong! Yay! But that's a digression. Back to Best Buy.

I'm not used to full-time employment. I remember at Borders, when I'd get a week with twenty hours or so, I'd complain and feel exhausted. And the job at Borders was such a joke compared to the one at Best Buy! Best Buy is non-stop interaction, non-stop moving, constantly being on your toes to handle all sorts of bizarre customer desires and questions. I can't even tell you how strange some of the requests I've heard. "I want to watch TV in a house where I can't put any wires!" and "I want the best computer money can buy, but I don't want to spend more than $300." I've also learned all about people: their divorces, their relationships, their children, their life plans. It's incredible what a customer will share with you after you've been with them for a few hours. And I'm not exaggerating, either: transactions at this place, from the first "Hello!" to the final "Goodbye!" take a very, very long time. My co-worker Brittany and I spent almost three hours with a single customer one day, and the damn bitch didn't even buy anything! (She did come back later in the week, though, and bought everything we recommended, and she left us a great review on the survey site!) Personally, I have about an hour, hour and a half attention span. If I'm with you much longer than that, I start to lose interest, and instead of trying to help you, I'm trying to get you out of the store. It's definitely something I noticed, and it's definitely something I'm trying to work on curbing. It's not easy, though. Two hours is a long ass time, yo!

But I'm off on a tangent. The intended point of that last paragraph is that I'm not used to full-time hours at a real job. Borders was a joke; I lounged around most of the day and helped maybe a customer here and there. Best Buy is different. Best Buy is exhausting. I have 76 hours on my pay this Friday. Seventy-six hours! I don't think I've worked 76 hours in a single month before this, let alone a single pay period! It's utterly ridiculous. And the hours are early, too! 10 o'clock, 8 o'clock, sometimes even 7 o'clock in the morning! Me! Can you imagine? I'm in bed nowadays by 2, 3 at the latest. It's incredibly bizarre to me. I feel very much like some sort of foreigner, a tourist traveling through a very strange, very unwelcoming land. For me, that land is called Daylight.


So, I wrote all that about two days ago, then I closed the laptop to take a break and never opened it again until now. I'm so bad at this. But that's what I mean. I'm so busy now, I can't manage. And I'm not even that busy, to be honest. I have the forty hours of work a week, and that takes up so much more than forty hours. By the time I get home, I'm too tired to do much of anything except mindless gaming or mindless TV. It's frustrating.

But now, where was I? Something about Best Buy... ah, yes! Daylight! I'm not good with it. I just don't get it. It's bright and hurts my eyes, and there are loud birds, and lots of people all over the place. No, I prefer the night, but alas, I am a stranger to the night nowadays. Stupid job. But yeah, the job is tiring.

Otherwise, though, I like it. Sometimes I laugh at some of the idiotic things they make us do or say, but I roll with it. For the most part, I like the people that I work with, and I like the job. It's not like I go to bed unable to wait for the next day, and it's not like I've dreamed my whole life about being a computer salesman, but it's a decent enough job. I feel smart when I do it, and I'm actually helping people out, which is a plus.

I've met some great people, too. A girl named Brittany, for instance. She's leaving our store to transfer to one a bit farther away, and that sucks, because she and I have a good time together. We're supposed to hang out soon, though, and that's exciting. A guy named Sean, who's very cool, and one of my managers, a woman named Mel, is also rather awesome. There're two guys that work there, and it's strange. One of them is twelve years old, and he's not at all attractive. He walks like a Neanderthal, he's skinny to the point of unhealthiness, and he's got a huge nose, but for some reason I have this incredible urge to bang him. There's another guy who's very good-looking, though he has sideburns and tends not to shave when he should. He's also a douche. But I'd really like to bang him, too. I, of course, haven't said more than two words to either of the two. They're not gay, and I hesitate to even say anything about being attracted to them, because if they ever found out, I wouldn't want things to get weird. (This is one of the problems with being gay. If they were women who I happened to think were cute, I wouldn't really mind if they found out. It wouldn't be a big deal, you know? But because it's a gay thing, a same sex thing, I have to be paranoid that they'd suddenly feel threatened or cause a stink. Such a sad world we live in.)

I think that about covers it for Best Buy news. I have a full-timer meeting tomorrow, very early, and it's some sort of round table thing. Sean said it's a good time and we have a splendid conversation, and I don't think he was being sarcastic, so now I'm envisioning mood lighting with candles and Kumbiyah singalongs. So who knows how that's going to go.

I wanted to write so much more, but alas, my pizza is almost finished, and I need to eat that and then go to bed so I can wake up in the morning. I'm also paranoid because I think the 'm' key on this MacBook Air is acting funny, and if this computer breaks and I need to get a new one, I will seriously jump off a bridge. I can't afford all these new devices, dammit! But I do love this thing.... fuck. Let's hope it feels better in the morning.
rightangles: (Default)
Last you heard, I might have gotten a job at Best Buy.

Well, I did.

I’ve only worked a few days, and quite frankly, I’m still rather ambivalent about the whole thing. One minute I love it and think it’s the best thing to happen to me, and the next I’m cursing Borders for going out of business and cursing myself for getting into this mess. It’s very, very bottom-line cutthroat type of selling environment. They give you daily goals, and you have to have end-of-day meetings with managers regarding your sales for the day… every day! And there’s like four hundred (literally, four hundred!) eLearnings I have to complete to get certified…

The people who work there, though, seem cool… for the most part. I have mixed feelings about my manager, who seems very nice and very genuine, but I have a feeling she’ll tear you a new asshole the second you are even remotely unsatisfactory. But all the employees have a good rapport with each other — joking, swearing, all that jazz — and there’s one girl, Brittany, who seems very cool.

On my first day, there was another new hire with me named Royce. He was very good-looking, in a masculine sort of way. He lives on a farm with his parents, and he loves sports, and he lifts weights all the time. He was tanned, well-built, with a Roman nose and a bit of scruff. RaeJean and I have nicknamed him North Dakota Farmboy. As it turns out, he’s only 18 — no surprise there, as I’m apparently determined to rob the cradle. What was strange, though, is the degree to which I wanted to bang his brains out. I mean, we sat next to each other on a couch in a small room — alone! — for something like three hours to watch these idiotic new hire videos, and I barely paid them any attention because I was too busy restraining myself from licking his bicep. The funny thing is, he wasn’t even that good-looking. He wasn’t hideous, and he does work out, but he’s not my type… the whole experience really makes me believe in pheromones… or something like that. I mean, yeah, I’m horny as all get out, but there’s bunches of men that I work with, some of whom aren’t too bad-looking, and I don’t want to throw them against a 72″ HD TV and fuck the shit out of them, you know?

Anyway, yeah, back to the job. They’ve scheduled me a ridiculous amount of hours, including many early mornings, and I’m not too keen on that. But the paychecks will be glorious, and so I’m hoping to get my new computer sooner rather than later. That’s exciting. And I hope I like it there. I’m still a bit hesitant, but I’m going to give it my all and hope it works out.

That’s really the only thing to note. Because I’ve been working so many hours at Best Buy, in addition to my keyholder position at Borders and my “third job” of babysitting my grandma’s shih tzu puppy, I’ve been pretty busy. I haven’t had any time at all to write, and the only reading I’ve been able to get done is a few pages here and there. This is particularly upsetting, because I still need to finish the revision of “Sunflower” for the editor (Steve) at Lethe Press, and I’m reading a book at the moment called The Boy with the Cuckoo Clock Heart by a Mathias Malzieu. (Yes, he’s French.) The book is amazing. Very surreal, very poetic, very fresh, and it’s short. It’s one of those books that I think I’m doing it a disservice by reading it in fits and starts. I wish I could sit down and gorge on the whole thing in a single sitting, but unfortunately, that just can’t happen at the moment. Maybe in a re-read later on in life…

I’m waiting for my cheese bread to finish baking, at which point I’m going to go watch an episode of Ally McBeal and probably go to bed. How strange is that, you know? Me, in bed by two-thirty! Maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks after all…
rightangles: (little prince falling)
So, I may have gotten a job at Best Buy.

This is good news, since I'm not sure how much longer my bookstore will be open. Borders, as you may or may not know, is liquidating. I think my little store that I've come to love over the past four years has, at most, another three or four weeks. It's sad, but I've come to terms. We have to move on.

So I applied to a few stores for retail positions. I also sent in an application for an editor position, but I have little real experience, so as much as I'd love that job, I don't think I stand a chance. But Best Buy called, and I went on the first of three scheduled interviews, and the guy liked me so much he called me back five minutes later to do the last two interviews with the higher-ups. The general manager, a woman named Sharon, said I was the best interview she'd had in she couldn't remember how long, because I have both smarts and a personality, and she thinks I'll do really well there. So she hired me on the spot, offering me nearly $2 more than I make at Borders for a position that has less responsibility than my current one. Good deal, right?

I'll be a sales associate in digital technology, which is their umbrella term for things like computers, cameras, and e-readers. I'm a little worried that I'm going to fail miserably at sales -- I'm not the most outgoing person in the world, and Best Buy has apparently adopted some new strategy that involves employees trying a more personable approach to customers. So instead of saying, "Hi, how can I help you?" when I walk up to a customer on the floor, I have to say something like, "Hi, my name is Matt, and I love your shirt!" Cheesy, right? I'm not sure I can do it, but I sure as Hell am going to try.

In more exciting news: I felt an earthquake today! 5.9 on the Richter scale, epicenter somewhere in Virginia, just south of Washington, D.C. I was just waking up when it happened, so I was in that half-asleep, half-awake state of semi-consciousness. I felt my bed shake, and I thought perhaps my cat had jumped up with me, but when I looked, no cat. I remember thinking, "Well, maybe she's underneath the bed and pushing on it down there," which now that I think about it is the most ludicrous thought probably ever to cross my mind. But like I said, half-asleep, half-awake. Anyway, after that, I got up to pee, and I remember walking to the bathroom and standing to pee and thinking, "Jesus, I'm really dizzy. I hope I'm not dying." But I finished peeing and went back to bed. I didn't realize it was an earthquake until I got to work and my co-worker Barb was like, "Did you feel the earthquake!?" Well, Barb: Yes, yes I did!

Summer is still in full swing here, and it's exhausting. There're bugs everywhere, it storms all the time, it's always ridiculously hot out, and the sun is so effing bright. I definitely have that feeling in my bones, that ache for winter. I miss cool nights and snow and holiday decorations. I miss cuddling up under a big, heavy blanket to read while listening to Christmas music. I love that! This will be our first Christmas in the new house, and it's going to be exciting. There's going to be so much snow! We have such huge yards here, compared to the postage stamps we had downtown. Very exciting.

I don't know why -- I'm 28, I'm supposed to be past my sexual prime, aren't I? -- but I have been exceedingly frustrated and, to be frank, horny as of late. This may have something to do with the fact that there are hot-bodied men everywhere I look -- on the Internet, on television, in games, everywhere! The strangest consequence of this increased frustration is this: I see so many people now at the mall that I have to restrain myself from growling at or jumping on the spot. These people aren't even attractive! But they still make me tense in all the right places. It's bizarre. There was one guy who had long black hair and a tattered wifebeater. He was dirty, downright dirty, and I had to bite my tongue so I didn't purr. Maybe it's pheromones...

I'm also frustrated with my writing. I won't say too much here, since I have a whole journal dedicated to writing, but I'm having trouble with a short story and therefore doubting everything -- my capabilities, my suitability, my ideas, myself. I want so much to be good at this, to have people who read my stuff and love it, to get published... but it all seems so far out of reach. Frustrating!

I haven't blogged very much the past few years, which is sad. Since I moved home, nothing ever happens to me, so I never have the dire need to blog. Not like I did when I had Josh-and-Craig drama every weekend, as it was in Pittsburgh, and certainly not like I did when I had Jon drama every day, as it was in Boston. I say I have nothing to say, and so I don't write an entry, but I'm going to make a concerted effort to blog more often. I miss talking about myself and my day, and even if no one reads, I find it relaxing. It's therapy, really.