i pulled my last post down as it reeked of vitriol. this week in retail is taking it's toll on me. if i have to endure one more yuppie fuck trying to get something for nothing, i will simply asplode. you can't buy something in a retail store (e.g. scissors) for three bucks and expect to get the performance of a $40 pair of shears. simply put. maybe at the flea market, you'll find hidden treasure. not so at the mall, friends and neighbors. it's the same crap as the other side of town, with the same prices and the same surly attitude.

and frankly, i like saying yuppie fuck. "Hey Yuppie Fuck! Your kid just took a shit under the christmas tree, you wanna get some Kleenex or something and help?"

and slowly, this post devolves into vitriol as well. apologies.

what's important about this time of year, as if you need to hear it from me, is not the stuff under the tree. it's not the tree. it's not even the eggnog and rumcake, although that helps. it's about considering our families and friends, and being grateful for what we have right now instead of grousing about the Xbox we can't find/afford.

it's shocking because the ad for the Rolex is right next to the pleading for blankets for the homeless in the paper. it's shocking because instead of people ostensibly teaching their children about the birth of half of the worlds' lord and and savior, they're teaching them to be greedy unstobbable consumers. there's so much buildup, so much saccharine crap on TV. why can't i be jolly? i tried.

i put on my reindeer horns and my nametag and went to work, and got a thorough ass-kicking from the DM. i have no budget for people, ergo the work's not getting done. the ad in the paper listed the wrong store hours, so instead of corporate putting out a correction, we've to open earlier and stay later. no worries, it's all the same. so another holiday comes and goes, and you know what i want for christmas this year? inner peace. acceptance of myself. to experience calm. a good night's sleep. an end to never-ending war. politicians that can be trusted. beds and food for those that don't have it.

none of that's offered in my store, at any price. nor any store i've found.

bruises aside, i'm beginning to think i made a mistake when i left my old job. i gave up my tenure, my bennies, my friends and a sense of doing something for this mess..

then i talked with dan, who was one of my drivers, who delivers to my store. he tells me that they sent a driver out wednesday (peak day, something like 50 brazillion packages in the system) with 450 stops. a really good driver who knows his area like the back of his hand and is better-than-average lucky will pull off 18 stops an hour. this cat is a cover driver (read: may or may not know the area), in a ryder truck (read: no shelves, no order to the shit that's in there).

i don't know where i'm going with this post. i've been awol more than not lately, so i thought i'd check in, and it's my blog so i can say whatever i want. i hate christmas. i have since i hit puberty. no one has enough money this time of year, and everyone feels some obligation to pull things off, be they dinner or presents or parties, whatever. i remember the years when mom and dad weren't together and just how fucking awful that was. i don't have any time or money right now, so i'm suffering that guilt as well as probably inflicting it on other people with my mere existence.

yeah, it may have its roots in something perhaps sacred, but now it's a monumental group-grope for the retailers, the shippers, the old fat drunks who play santa and diddle the kids.

but, on the upshot, it's a day off.