falling to pieces…

This past week has been, how would one put it…trying(?) in regards to work, and to my patience.  My store manager has been quite ill, and therefore either out sick, or an overly-medicated head case.  My store is staffed with people who are less-than-tenured in the jewelry field, and can sometimes have questions, or make honest mistakes.  My store manager, unfortunately, has an abnormally low tolerance level for questions or understandable mistakes.  She has become infamous for having audible phone conversations in the store with her previous assistant manager, in regards to the fact that she works with seven people who are so idiotic that we lose merchandise and cannot make our sales goals, let alone our 3% commission quota.  I have had numerous employees pull me aside, to inform me that “if it wasn’t for you, Kira, I would walk out right now, because I f-ing hate her”.  Not only that, but every hour-on-the-hour it seems, my store manager is pulling me out of the store to complain about everything under the sun that is wrong with the store, that this is the worst team she’s ever had work for her (even though she hired everyone but myself and the office manager), that this is breaking her, and that everyone has such a learning deficiency or a lack of a good work ethic that she is ready to break, and that she is going to repost her position.  Let me tell you, being the middle-man is not an easy thing.  There is nothing that I can really say to either party, and there truly is not quick and easy resolution to the lack of team cohesiveness that exists in our store.  I will say one thing, though, there is no way we will last through holiday if things keep up the way they are.

P.S. My district manager has told me to just make it through holiday and the store is mine.  While that is more than flattering, I can’t say that I truly am all that interested in the position, or the idea of locking myself into a career in retail management once again.  Who knows what will happen, that’s the problem with promises about career advancement in retail, they’re as unreliable as the stock market. 

On a lighter note, I am very happy to say that I had a wonderful Thanksgiving, and that everyone with whom I have spoken seems to have enjoyed theirs, as well.  Today, I woke up, and came downstairs to find our friend Mike, alone in the kitchen, no other roommates in the house, stuffing a turkey–apparently my housemates had arranged a Thanksgiving dinner.  We had four people over, and enjoyed the turkey stuffed with apples, sausage, and vegetables, roasted with bacon, the stuffing, the sweet potato pie, and the apple pie that Mike made, mashed potatoes from another guest, and the twice baked potatoes and green bean casserole that I made.  There are few times of the year when I find myself so full that I am uncomfortable, and I was somehow graced with the opportunity to be gluttonous within three days of one another this year.  Sweet!

One of my housemates’ sisters was over for dinner tonight.  She truly is a genuinely nice individual; she’s funny, bubbly, cute, the whole nine.  The only downside to her company is that she finds every opportunity to complain about the fact that she is 25 and single.  Perhaps it’s projection that makes me a little irritable when she brings it up every five minutes (I certainly hope I don’t whine about that as often as she), but my goodness that becomes wearing.  She likes to rope me into the conversations, too.  “You know what it’s like, Kira, you’re single, too.  We should go out in search for men.”  I have to be honest, the mere thought of “man-hunting” has no appeal to me whatsoever.  Perhaps that is why I have yet to find myself in a relationship, but it just isn’t anything that sounds enticing.  I suppose that she has just managed to catch me on a day where I feel somewhat optimistic about my future, because my goodness, I would love to find someone, but somewhere, deep down inside, I believe that no matter how long it may or may not take, I will eventually find the right person for me.  Why waste time with all of the wrong people?  Do I get down on myself for being single? Absolutely.  But constantly complaining about it does nothing but shed your appeal.  Maybe I can cement that thought into my brain and never complain about it again! =)

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Once again, my apologies for taking such an extended leave from updating my blog. 

Life in retail continues to be, well…life in retail.  Too many hours worked, too few hours left to relax let alone entertain the thought of having a healthy social life, I’ll leave it at that.  I’m seriously considering going back to school, and while I won’t be able to enroll as a full-time student, I think I actually have enough motivation to focus on one particular area of study that I just might stick with it until I complete not only undergraduate, but also graduate school.  Fascinating, no?  We’ll see what actually transpires, and whether or not I can actually re-commit to the lifestyle of a part-time soph/full-time worker.

In the last few months I’ve been having trouble coming to the realization that I have fallen out of touch with the majority of my closest friends.  I will admit, that for the most part, I am responsible for the communication breakdown, and could even be accused of being reclusive.  Fortunately for me, most people just assume that I am busy with work (which I have been), and let their unreturned phone calls roll off their backs.  Those who know me well enough understand that this time of year is very difficult for me, and that I’m bound to be an emotional train wreck, and therefore leave me be.  Unfortunately for me, this is the time of year when I try to reconnect with anyone who has inflicted some kind of mental, emotional, or physical abuse upon me in efforts to make peace or to have closure, and tumble down a spiral of self-loathing and self-deprecation, and need nothing more than close friends to comfort me.  It’s this time of year when I truly need a support system, and when I look through my address book in times of desperation, and find that I have no one to call, I become panicky, self-conscious, irritable, and reclusive.  When asked what it is that’s bothering me, I have no brief explanation for people, and instead explain that I’m just “cranky”, which results in one of two things: 1.) people leaving me be and worrying that I’m upset with them; or 2.) people becoming way too intrusive with questions to get me to spill, thus heightening my level of frustration.  It’s difficult for people to console an individual who herself can’t think of the best means of comfort, and I am therefore thankful of the few individuals in my life who just understand…I just wish we were in closer contact and that I wasn’t such a lousy friend.  I’m quite certain that this entire paragraph is entirely incomprehensible, but considering the fact that I’ve taken the time to type out my thoughts, I’m going to leave them, anyway.

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I think I may be close to deciding what it is that I want to do with my life.  While I’m still not entirely sure, I think I’ve finally decided that medicine is not the career path for me.  Wedding planner, perhaps?  Almost as cutsie as my aspirations to own a flower shop on a cobblestone road in Geneva.  Someday.

Work has become slightly less challenging in most respects.  I often find my store manager a difficult person with whom to work, however, with the new district manager in place, I feel like a have a strong support system that will be conducive to any potential growth with the company.

I truly think that I may have drawn the last straw in terms of having patience and tolerance for my friends in Maine.  There is only so much one individual can take, and to be quite frank, I’m slowly convincing myself that my time and efforts would be better invested in a different circle of friends.

Home life is becoming quite interesting.  I might compare it to a double-edged sword.  I love being at home, but I’ve started to develop an attachment to one of my roommates.  Difficult?  Indeed.  On the one hand, I thoroughly enjoy spending time at home with the object of my affection, however, it is nearly impossible to mask my feelings to prevent the arousal of awkward situations.  It’s strange, though, do I really have  legitimate feelings for this individual?  Or am I prone to developing crushes on men with whom I spend a great deal of time, who happen to exhibit more compassion and interest than the boys I’ve grown up with?  Let’s face it, as much as I love them, they don’t set the bar very high…so would I have feelings for my roommate if I had been treated properly by men in the past?  Would anything have happened if I had just met him at a social gathering?  I’m not entirely sure, however, but what I do know, is that he treats me with far more consideration than any other gentleman of his generation.  We’ll see what happens, but, even in a perfect world where the two of us may realize that we have a mutual interest in one another, how do two people enter a relationship when they already share a home?

It’s been almost three months since I’ve written, I suppose, that it’s time I updated.

I’ve finally left the nest and moved in with three wonderful people. Our home is adorable, and the four of us have seemingly amalgamated into quite the cute little twenty-something family. It’s so nice to, once again, look forward to having a day off, and to leave work on time instead of searching for every excuse to keep me at work until 9:30 when my parents go to bed.

I somehow managed to psych myself out of signing up for summer classes, convinced that academic shortcomings are inevitable for me. Part of me isn’t 110% positive that medicine is the career I want, and the other part is frightened that I lack the levels of intellect and motivation requisite of a future surgeon. In the meantime, however, I have somehow found myself back in retail management…joy. The past couple of weeks have left me asking myself the same catalytic question that caused me to leave New Jersey, and Victoria’s Secret. Why the hell am I working in the retail management field? Only this time, I’m asking myself why I voluntarily chose to step back into such a position, knowing full well that it would distract me from academics (or in this case, prevent me from taking classes all together), and that I would somehow let myself be roped into devoting a minimum of two years to pursuing a potential move into upper management. It’s not what I want, why did I say yes? And now, that I’m not sure if medicine is for me, if I do enroll in classes, what do I study? I realize that I am “still young”, that I have “plenty of time to decide what to do with my life”, but I’m impatient; I want everything yesterday, and I want to know what to do with myself!

I spent my day yesterday at a friend’s college graduation party. As wonderful as it is to reminisce about times past, and to catch up with the family members of my closest friends, there is a certain dread that overwhelms me when confronted with the, “so, what are you doing with your life, sweetie?” question. “Oh you know, I left college, and have spent the last four years of my life being a slave to a corporation and trying to help the economy by increasing America’s debt.” I feel so accomplished. Okay, so I’ve established that retail is not where I want to be, but now, once again, where the heck do I want to be? Suggestions welcomed.

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This past weekend I drove to see my mother and stepfather at their home a few towns away.  I enjoy spending time there as my visits with them are so routine and predictable that, if you asked me what I would be doing at 7:43 that evening, I would tell you that I would be sitting on the love seat in the living room, kitten in lap, having a bowl of Edy’s chocolate chip ice cream with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, watching whatever television show my parents had recorded the previous evening.  At 9:20 I would be standing at the kitchen counter, drinking a small glass of strawberry kiwi Crystal light, laughing with my mother as the packs her lunch for the next day as we listen to my stepfather yell comical profanities at the dogs he pretends to hate as he’s trying to bring them inside to put them to bed.  It’s also typical of me spend about five minutes jumping on their bed as they wash up in the bathroom, before I sit down at the foot while they crawl under the covers and prepare themselves for about an hour of “what is new in the world of our daughter” conversation.

Sometimes I forget that my stepfather is an esteemed psychiatrist, as he makes his best efforts to completely remove himself from anything having to do with his practice while he is at home.  When I was younger, people would often ask me if I ever worried that my stepfather was analyzing my personality and if I acted differently around him to avoid any unwanted TLC or open-ended questions.  The thought of that is comical to me, because while at home, my stepfather generally exhibits behaviors completely opposite of what one may associate with a psychiatrist.  In situations like last night, however, when I find myself crying uncontrollably and face-to-face with some issues that clearly need resolving, I remember that, yes, my stepfather is a psychiatrist, and is probably more aware of my subconscious than I am.

I realize that this post is vague, however our conversation was just so lengthy and left me feeling quite uncertain of myself, and I don’t really feel like posting all of that information on the internet.  =)  If you want to know, you can ask me.  Long story short, I’m not very happy with myself at this point in my life, and could use a faithful friend.

Okay, so I wouldn’t actually call my qualms with work “occupational hazards”, however I lack creativity when it comes to thinking of titles for my blog posts. 

There are a number of individuals who have been insisting for months that I leave Victoria’s Secret to work full time with Sterling, Inc.  Now that I have actually made that transition, I’m having some regrets, as I mentioned in my most recent post.  Today, however, left me feeling more-than-frustrated.

I know that I said this yesterday, but I don’t know what the heck I’m doing.  I’m more than willing to learn, if someone, anyone, were willing to devote five minutes here and there to teach me.  Since no one seems to be interested in answering my questions, I have managed to make some mistakes that have kept us late three times in the past week.  Tonight, for instance, we didn’t leave until 11.  Eleven o’clock.  That’s earth-shattering for a jewelry store.  And it was all my fault.  I often find myself on the receiving end of the dreaded “wtf is wrong with you” look that I tried so hard to never aim at any of my associates, regardless of how flaky they could be at times.  I feel like a waste of space in that store, and I can’t stand feeling that way.  I hate being wrong, making frequent mistakes REALLY REALLY stresses me out, and while it may seem strange and unnecessary to some, it’s the way that I am.  Call me a perfectionist, call me obsessive compulsive, I guess I can’t argue with you.  Either way, I keep making mistakes, and with no one there to explain where I went wrong, and what to do to fix it and avoid making the mistake in the future, I’m not going to learn anything.  If I’m there 40 hours a week, I need to be an asset to the store, and right now, I’m not.

Certain people who make my work experience enjoyable don’t work with me anymore.  One never gets any hours, to both of our astonishment.  He, unlike me, can actually sell something and knows what the heck he’s doing.  For crying out loud, give some of my hours to him, it would be better for the business.  My other sanity pole at work is on vacation, and her absence is adding to my stress.

The new assistant manager is fantastic.  He and I hit it off immediately, and spent a fair amount of our first day together cracking jokes and engaging in enjoyable conversations between customers.  For some reason, the very next day, he stopped talking to me.  He still acts very strange around me, and I can’t understand why.  I can’t think of anything I would have done on that first day to provoke his complete 180.  I nonchalantly hinted at his attitude change yesterday, and he reverted back to the behavior he demonstrated on our first day working together, but the same thing happened again; today he was  completely disinterested in me.  I know that he has a lot of stress on his plate right now, I can understand that without any problems.  What really confuses me, however, is the fact that he’ll avoid me for the entirety of his shift, and spend it talking and joking with one of the girls who works there, that he claims to find obnoxious and immature.  What the heck?  Whoever said that women are confusing, and men are an open book was WRONG!  Between the boy in New Jersey and my assistant manager, I’m bound to develop a neurosis!  Goodness gracious.

So I must admit that, despite how pleased I am to be back in New England, part of me truly misses New Jersey.  I think that when I made my spur of the moment decision to return home I failed to consider some factors that are having great bearing on me.

Moving back in with my parents, while more cost effective, is never the most ideal situation.  I had somehow let myself overlook just how difficult it can be to coexist with my stepmother.  Also, I am no longer living the the basement like I had been in the past, but instead am in the bedroom I had when I was a little girl.  The problem there, is that it is juxtaposed to my parents’ bedroom, which therefore ends my evenings at exactly 9:30, when they retire for the night.  No light, no phone calls, no music, no television.  If I dim the brightness on my monitor and sit at a certain angle I can manage to use my computer, but needless to say, the comfort level here is non-existent in comparison to my digs in New Jersey.

I miss having animals in the house.  I had forgotten how nice it is to be greeted by a canine who’s adoration for you never falters.  I absolutely agree with the theory that pets can improve the quality of life, as it certainly holds true for me.  While I can’t say that I’ll miss the 4 AM wake up calls from giant dogs needing to be walked, I will miss everything else about them.

One of the transitions that has turned out to be most difficult for me is the change in career.  For those of you who don’t know me, and maybe even for those who do and aren’t aware, I am the type of person who has to hit the ground running, who has to know everything about everything (not in terms of gossip), who hates asking too many questions, and who abhors making mistakes.  Although leaving Victoria’s Secret has reduced my stress level considerably, it has also left me feeling quite helpless.  I don’t know how to sell jewelry.  I have very little fluency with the necessary office work and with computer operations, and it is making me insane.  If an individual walked up to me and asked me absolutely ANYTHING about Victoria’s Secret product, operating platform, policy, procedures, etc., I could answer his or her question in a matter of seconds.  At my new job, I am a complete and total flake.  I am no longer a go-to person, I don’t have a handle on every situation…did I mention that it’s making me crazy?  I guess I’m one of those type A personalities.  I know that I will start to get the hang of things in about a month or so, but in the meantime, it’s very frustrating. And, from what I’ve been told, I have had quite the reputation built up for me at the store, and to not meet someone’s expectations of me is, in my opinion, completely unacceptable.

On a completely different note, I went to visit two of my friends from Maine last night.  It’s funny how, regardless of how much time has passed, friends can bring you back to a specific point of your life; your whole attitude and demeanor changes, even the way you speak can change.  With them, I revert to being more submissive than I am with most people, I jump to wash their dishes, refill their glasses, cook for them, I tell fewer stories, I speak when spoken to, etc.  I’m not entirely sure when my personality changed the way it did, but sometimes, spending time with the boys can be exhausting.  The funny thing is, they don’t ask these things of me, I just make these subconscious character changes automatically.  Bizarre, I know, but frankly, I don’t have much of a problem trying to maintain their view of me as being a sweet, submissive, intellectual coquette, at least they think I’ll make someone happy one day.

Ha!  Speaking of which, I discovered multiple interesting information last night during my visit with the boys.  One piece of gossip was so overwhelmingly satisfying that I’m dying to tell someone but, unfortunately, it’s far too long of a story to put it into context, and the gossip piece itself is a little too inappropriate to share on a blog.  If you’re dying to know, just ask me.    The second piece of news left me a little more than frustrated.

Apparently, the boy who was partially responsible for my move to New Jersey (though I’ll never admit that to some people), has had a girlfriend for a little over six months, and that is why he never made time to see me while I was down there.  Okay, listen.  You have a girlfriend?  That’s wonderful!  It’s fantastic!  Whatever it is that makes you happy, I’m glad to see it happen for you.  I am not the type of person who will freak out over something like that.  While, yes, I may be disappointed that the girl who is making you happy isn’t me, far be it for me to sneer at the fact that you’re in a relationship with a wonderful girl.  I am more grown up than that.  Here are my frustrations:

1. While a relationship may not always be the first thing most people bring up in conversation, it might be helpful to throw that in there somewhere during your weekly phone call, just to put things into perspective for the clueless, lonely girl who lives three towns over.  Maybe this clarity will help her understand exactly why it is that you can’t manage to find one spare minute in your busy week to get together with her, and she won’t spend hours dwelling on what it is about her that is so unappealing that she can’t even convince you to reserve 20 minutes to join her for a cup of coffee.

2. Did it ever cross your mind that, when this clueless, lonely girl is calling you, it’s not because she wants you to jump in bed with her, but because she’s alone in a new place where she knows no one but you, and perhaps she just wants to be in close proximity to someone or something familiar?  Sure, you’re cute and charming and intelligent, but please, get over yourself, she just needs a friend.

3. Perhaps you may want to consider the fact that she won’t just up and ditch you after learning that you have a girlfriend, but maybe receive the news with a smile and congratulate you?  Whatever the two of you were in the past is past, now that you’re in a relationship, and, unless you have something to hide, or a secret reason to shut out the lonely girl three towns over, there is no problem.  And if you do have something to hide, you’re a sleaze bag who doesn’t deserve either girl.

4. If you do indeed have a reason why you no longer want me in your life, man up and have the balls to tell me like it is.  Don’t keep me guessing and don’t play stupid head games.  It’s ridiculous, it’s unnecessary, and I did nothing to deserve it.  You’ve known me for ten years, and should know me well enough to recognize the fact that I don’t take well to being strung along, because I won’t realize what’s happening until I’ve already been hurt, like in this particular situation.  I am an adult, and can take bad news with a grain of salt, and recover.  So please, in the future, be straightforward with me; it will save me a little heartache, not to mention pride.

I was reading a friend’s blog today
and stumbled across a survey that he had taken from one of his friend’s blogs
and decided, what the heck, it’s been years since I’ve completed one, why not? 
So thank you to the friend-of-a-friend.

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It is 1:50 am…I leave in less than ten hours and I still have not finished packing.  I honestly forget exactly how many clothes and beauty products I own until I’m faced with the task of packing them into as few boxes and bags (that’s another thing I have too many of…overnight bags) as possible in an 8-hour time frame.  I have no idea what time my father and stepmother are supposed to be arriving tomorrow morning but I am hoping for 10.  I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll be able to wake up at 7 and finish packing, because right now I’m just too tired. 

I must admit, there is a part of me that truly wants to stay here.  I cannot express how lucky I was in finding Mark, who made me feel so welcome and at home over the last five months.  Part of me is skeptical as to whether or not I am making a wise decision in moving back to New Hampshire, instead of looking at schools and jobs down here before jumping on my first offer the way I did.  It’s not going to be easy to move back home, even if it is only for a few months…I’ve got my fingers crossed that I don’t do anything that will upset my parents, confrontation just isn’t something with which I’ll ever be comfortable. 

Jordana threw a going away party for me last night; it was really nice to see everyone from my old store.  It still hasn’t hit me that I’m done with Victoria’s Secret.  For some reason, I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s because I’m not done with the company, and that, sooner or later, I’ll wind up going back.  I don’t know when or to what position, but I just don’t think I can let go of it.  People can call me foolish for doing it, I know that if I let anyone know that I’m thinking of picking up a few shifts every now and again in my old store in New Hampshire they’ll shake their heads, but it is what it is, and for some strange, unknown reason, I have a very strong attachment to the company.  Who knows, maybe that will fade eventually, but school doesn’t start for a few months and I have to fill my time with something that will get me out of the house.  I know, I know, my time doesn’t have to be filled by working hours at a thankless job, why not go out and find a hobby?  Well, maybe I will.

I should probably get to sleep if I’m going to wake up in five hours and finish packing…I can’t believe I’m moving home tomorrow…I guess I just wasn’t cut out for the New Jersey way of life. 

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I talked to a friend of mine who worked with me as an associate way back when at Victoria’s.  She and I have since taken several steps up in the company and remain to be one another’s biggest competition.  After our conversation tonight, she reassured me that, yes, I do know what the hell I’m doing, and that I am an asset to the company, but regardless I am taking a step in the right direction in going back to school.  It has been very beneficial to have her friendship over the last few years…it would be nice to have her closer.  Thankfully, I don’t think it will take much persuasion to get her to leave New York after June sale. 

Mark and Amy had to have Jake put down last week…I never would have thought that my favorite animal would be one that didn’t belong to me.  After four pain-staking days of seeing and hearing about him suffering everything from a blockage in his esophagus to paralyzation, it was a relief to hear that he had been put to rest.  The next day, however, when Mark handed me a card “from Jake”, thanking me for making his final days as comfortable as possible, I burst into tears all over again.  Even now, thinking about it, I’m tearing up. 

Somehow, Amy convinced Mark that it would be a good idea to get a new puppy.  They returned today, after a long road trip to and from Iowa, of all places, with a 10-week old Great Dane.  He is polar opposite from the remaining Dane in the house, as he is not hyperactive in nature and all black in coloring but instead spotted like a Dalmation and is as slothlike as a puppy can be.  At ten weeks he alreaday weighs 35 pounds, and just the sound of him plodding around on his paws that are already larger than my fists cracks me up.  His father weighed 220 pounds and his mother weighed 200, so he will undoubtedly be a monster.  His name is Motley, and in six weeks, he will, without a doubt, be knocking Brutus over during playtime without any effort.  It’s a shame that I won’t be able to see him grow up. 

I did something to my back today at work.  I was taking out the garbage with DeAndre, and managed to slip on the ice outside.  While I managed to keep myself from falling, I must have wrenched my back in just the wrong way, because upon straightening up, the same stabbing pain returned to my spine that sent me to the hospital eight years ago.  DeAndre had to carry me inside, upstairs, and lay me down on the office desk, where I stayed for more than an hour before being able to move.  Once again, I cannot walk, stand, sit, or lay down comfortably, and lifting my leg past a 30-degree angle brings an onslaught of crippling pain.  Wonderful.  If I have to spend another year in physical therapy, I am not going to be happy.