It's Alive!!

It's alive!  

OK, it's not really alive, but it seems like it sometimes, because it gets absolutely everywhere.  It's so thick on the back window of my car that I can hardly see out of it.  Yes, I'm talking about the dreaded pollen. 

We're expecting more severe weather tomorrow, so I went ahead and brought my chair and table inside this afternoon, and they are both covered in pollen.  

And other stuff, but we won't talk about that.  But you can see how thick it is here. 

 I'll have to give them a good washing before I sit in them again.  Oh, and I bought a citronella candle this afternoon, so maybe I can sit out there without the skeeters chomping on me.   It won't be tomorrow, though, because as I said, we're expecting severe weather this weekend. 

I'd leave it outside, but there is that chance of hail.  I don't want my new chairs to be pulverized by egg sized balls of ice. 

They are still re-arranging our Walmart, by the way, so I got in and got out as quickly as I could.  I didn't even get some of the stuff I wanted, because I couldn't find it.   I was already aggravated because right before quitting time, they brought an entire buggy full of headers back from the line that had been brazed wrong. 

By second shift.  

First they said we'd only have to pull the bad legs out, and they'd make second shift re-make them, but about 10 minutes until 2:00, they told us we would have to stay over and braze the order up.  We weren't happy, but with all of us working together, we got the entire 188 order done, plus an 8 piece that had also been done wrong. 

I still say they should have made second shift re-do the order, because how are they going to learn accountability if we're constantly cleaning up their mess?  I was also aggravated because they expect us to work our butts off for a company that treats us like garbage.  

Oh, did I not tell you the latest?  As of yesterday, we are now required to raise our hands and ask permission to go to the bathroom.  How demeaning is that?

Or as my coworker quipped, "I'm just Inmate 12345 here."  

*No, that's not her real employee ID number.  

Now, if you'll excuse me, Inmate 54321 is going to go knit a bit before I have to report back to prison in the morning. 

Laters...