Ok, I haven’t blogged in a few days. It feels as though it has been a week.
Where did I leave off?
Oh, yeah, I was complaining about being scheduled for an extra shift without being asked or informed. There wasn’t even a, “Hey, Pam, there is an opening cashier hole in Tuesday’s schedule. Could you possibly work 8:30-3:00? We would greatly appreciate it.” How rude.
There is more to the story. I arrived at work, on my day off, Tuesday, and clocked-in at 8:29 am.
I headed toward Lane (registers are called, “lanes,” at Sprouts) one. I plunked down my personal items and did my produce walk. Produce is the big seller at Sprouts. Each of us cashiers takes a stroll through that department to take note of new stuff, important sales and to steal stickers off the items that could be a pain in the ass to look up in the PLU code book. At least, I do that last part of the walk. They want us to scan produce. I’m complying with their wishes.
I mentioned to the head cashier on duty, who I will call, Melinda, that I wasn’t happy about being awake and at a register at that hour because I was supposed to be off and Yolanda was supposed to be checking the schedule to see if she could give my Wednesday shift to someone else so that I wouldn’t be working six consecutive days. Melinda countered with, “She’s off today and tomorrow.” “So, she basically lied to me!” I barked back.
Then it also hit me that Yolanda had just recently (less than a week) returned from having about ten days off for her honeymoon. Wow! On top of that, someone else at work is stuck being scheduled for nine consecutive days because this person requested two consecutive days off for a family function. Wow.
In sum, I worked Tuesday and Wednesday. On Wednesday (yesterday) I did hear some interesting information from a Sproutie at the Oviedo store who was shopping in my store. I was ringing her up. I asked her if she was from the Oviedo store when she scanned her employee discount card. “Yes.” “How do you like it there?” “I love it. Everyone does.” “How is your management?” “They are awesome” “Really?” “Yes, I was asking about transferring here (to Winter Park) and everyone said, ‘don’t do it.’” “Really? That’s interesting.”
It turned out she worked in vitamins in her store. I would get attention deficit disorder working in that department; there are so many teeny tiny items to track. It would feel like a constant looking for a needle in a haystack to me.
I did tell her I was thinking of transferring to Oviedo because eventually I will re-enroll at UCF to finish my anthropology degree-EVEN IF IM 70!!!!!!!- and I want to live closer to campus and I hate living in my part of Winter Springs. As it is now, I’m equidistant to each store. That’s about nine miles. I now am weighing my Sprouts options. I am not eligible to transfer until I hit the six month mark. That will be July 4th. I’m also mulling over a department switch, say, to bulk or produce. However, I have written about my bad luck with plants, so produce might not be a good choice for me.
Yesterday, it also turned out that Yolanda DID work. I’m unsure if she had it off and came in, or if I was given misinformation about her days off. Nevertheless, Yolanda did nothing to help me out. Maybe that’s why she actually spoke to me-even nicely.
She asked, “Pam, how are you doing? You feeling ok?” I told her I was. In fact, I may have created my own abdominal issue by taking in collagen powder incorrectly. I read in several reputable places that it can irritate your intestines, including your colon. I decided to lay off of it for about a week. The last three days my abdominal pain had been minimal.
The problem might have been in my dosing. I was putting half a scoop into my coffee thermos and the other half into my breakfast: cereal, yogurt and fruit or scrambled eggs.
I asked our vitamins manager and he told me to spread the scoop amount throughout my day. Of course, he isn’t a medical professional. I will be discussing this with my gastroenterologist. I was kind of bummed because it did seem to decrease my appetite a bit, and in the three weeks I was taking it, my hair got silkier.
Kind of on the same subject, a probiotics demo person was in our store yesterday. I forgot her name, but she was very nice. I ended up getting a ten day supply of probiotics that are supposed to mostly live in the colon. I haven’t begun taking them yet. I think I should give the colon a rest and just stick to eating Activia yogurt daily.
In other health news, I have an appointment with my gynecological oncologist tomorrow at 10:45 am. I go to the Lake Mary office, which is a lot closer than downtown Orlando. I think I might be making good progress on that front-the pre-cancerous vulvar cells. I seem to be having less discomfort there. But, she’s going to look tomorrow, I’m sure. I just am so very grateful they are PRE-cancerous.
Yesterday, on the way home I picked up the three prescriptions that Walgreens was hounding me about. I think that pharmacy is getting busier and they have less space to store filled prescriptions. That could be, or maybe they know I’m a slacker and wait until I’m down to the last pill or drop of whatever it is that’s being refilled. I just loathe lots of errands after work and on my days off I’m a homebody. It’s sad.
I parked in the shade of the Walgreens building cause this time of year you park in the shade even if it’s a block away ( I might be exaggerating like I never do) so that you don’t cook your hands on your steering wheel when you return to the sauna that was your car only moments ago. I only brought my phone and debit card into the store with me, ignoring the voice that said, “You’re going to need your ID.” I got to the front doors when I remembered I was picking up my generic Xanax (that word always reminds me of my ancient Maya class which, in turn, reminds me of chocolate because, God bless the Mayas, they gave us chocolate) and that I would need my ID. I stubbornly persisted onto the pharmacy with a detour down the chocolate aisle where I was viciously attacked by two Ghirardelli chocolate bars: a cherry and a blood orange.
At the pharmacy counter one of techs asked for my name. I told her and she said, “I’m going to need to see your ID.” I laughed and said, “Yeah, I knew it. I was being lazy. I’ll be right back.” I left my chocolate bars at her register and returned to the hell that is Florida in Summer. Please note that it is not officially Summer in the Northern Hemisphere yet. Summer arrives in Florida on about March 2nd.
A couple of days before, I had called the pharmacy because I knew one of the three things I was picking up was that nasty Clepiq to clean out my colon for next month’s colonoscopy. It was 50 bucks so I wanted an idea of the damage I would inflict upon my checking account. “Forty-nine dollars and ninety-seven cents.” “Wow, really? I swear that Clepiq gunk was fifty bucks three months ago. Did the price go down? Cause if it did I’m celebrating this date as a holiday next year.” The tech in the other end busted out laughing. Sometimes I have that affect on people. Thankfully, that’s never happened during sex, or I could have developed some kind of insecurity there.
When I picked up my prescriptions I found out why it was cheap. My imitation Xanax and the pre-cancer cream were FREE!! What???
I recalled that when I paid 100 bucks toward my D&C at Orlando Health, the financial rep told me my out of pocket had been reached. I didn’t know that would mean free stuff. Omg. Is this Canada? The UK?
I got my answer when I strode through the door and into the parking lot. No, it’s still blazing hot, steamy Florida.
Oh, the unfettered joy.