Only sporadic blog posts for awhile

It’s 4:05 am EDT Saturday 3/25.

I HATE working nights. I am sick of my sleep schedule being completely fucked. I got off work at 9:00 pm. Bought a couple of things at my job-Sprouts Farmers Market. Then, I had to stop at Publix, a block away, for a couple of more things. At the last minute I bought a lottery ticket—Fantasy 5. Glad I did, I won a free ticket.

A pot of gold at the end of this rainbow? Casselberry, Spring of 2022. My photo.

I have reached the point in which I want to prioritize my sleep health. I’ve worked crazy mixed up hours since I started college, and began waiting tables in 1979, when I was 19. Well, for the first month and a half of college, I was 18. I started in January, which technically was a semester late.

So, I’ve been working lousy hours for a very long time. I’m done. I’m so done.

I have finally decided that I deserve to be happy. I haven’t been happy since 2005. Working a normal, regular, predictable, healthy schedule is what I want. Yeah, me wanting some predictability? That’s just wild.

Just a few months ago when I was getting a good number of hours (at least 30 per week), I was happy staying where I am. Then I kept getting night shifts and fewer hours (everyone got fewer hours beginning in February). I psychologically began to roil and boil. I don’t work in an unhappy place. I sincerely really like and enjoy 99.999% of my co-workers and managers. We have some great managers, people who can have some goofy fun AND work their arses off. And, I never really feel lied to, or manipulated—so unlike other jobs I’ve had.

Here’s the thing, Sprouts is not a big enterprise like Walmart is. That was my last job. So, cashiers are a dime a dozen there with a constant barrage of customers. Thus, it’s very easy to request to work certain hours, and to avoid working other hours, while simultaneously, still getting good hours. A few years back, at Walmart, I reduced my hours so that the latest I worked was 7:00 pm. One of my bosses told me that it (the algorithm that that, “makes,” the schedule) might give me fewer hours. I was lucky; it gave me more.

That wasn’t enough incentive to stay there. Things got weird and then the COVID pandemic started, and it got weird and intolerable. I had to get out. Thanks to a recently-former Walmart co-worker, who got a job at Sprouts, she got me in there. I’m very grateful. I was sick of selling the cheap, easily broken products Walmart sells, and benefits for part timers were rumored to be getting axed. They did get axed after I left.

Sorouts does not have cashiers at a dime a dozen. Requesting to only work certain hours while keeping 30 hours per week is not going to fly.

I’m sick of retail in general anyway. So, I’ve decided that I really need to make changes—some big transformative changes. I need to devote most of my time to that.

Another variable that is kind of pushing me away from my little blogsite is that I need to increase space. That comes at an increased cost. Hey, try squeezing that into the budget when you are sometimes only getting 18 hours a week. Thus, that’s not happening right now.

This experience has taught me how much of a visual person I am. My love of photography, and images, might be as strong as my love of words, and writing. It’s very depressing to me to keep reusing the same images over and over. I’m out of space ( much like my iPhone 7 is), and can’t add anything new. I had not expected that to depress me so much, but it has.

My plan is to nail down an at home job, that gives me spare enough time to also pursue my thrift store shopping for profit endeavor. The thought of doing that gives me hope and joy.

Two things I haven’t felt much of in a long while.

I wasn’t planning on staying up this late, or on writing this. The urge came on suddenly, and when I felt how deep it ran, I knew that if I didn’t get it out, it would ruin my sleep.

I’m almost done with this and I already feel more relaxed.

However, that could also be from the melatonin I took before I started to type.

Good night/mornin,’ all.

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