tinhuvielartanis: (Smidge and Tin September 2008)
The lady with whom I work the closest at Sally Foster is a fellow animal lover. A day doesn't go by without Amy telling me the intrepid tales of Flossie the Bull Terrier and Willard the Scottie. She's an absolute joy to be around.

The other day, though, Amy got off the phone with her brother in tears. She'd just found out that her brother's cat, a Katrina rescue by the name of Blaze (because he was found on the roof of a burning house), had cancer and needed to be euthanised. Amy is very tender-hearted and can't deal with stuff like this, not when it comes to animals. She was quiet for a time, then she piped up and said, "Tracy, let me ask you a question. Do you believe that there's a heaven for animals?"

Amy knows that I'm a Witch, or a Wiccan, as that's the term with which she's most familiar. I guess she sensed that I'm also more comfortable serving in the Crone aspect of the Goddess, given her question seemingly from left field. I wasn't prepared for such a question and had honestly never really developed a concrete theory about animals and the afterlife, just feeling that they go through essentially the same cycle that we humans do. Something in her question triggered the Crone within me, though, and I shared with her this theory:

I told her that I believed that there's a heaven more so for animals than for humans because animals are essentially more pure in spirit. Humans have a lot of issues with which to deal, most of it of our own making. Animals come to this plane to do whatever they came to do, then return to that place of spirit to wait on their humans to get our shit together so we can stop reincarnating and join them in the spiritual realm. She seemed comforted by this, but asked if I ever thought that animals ever returned to the physical realm. Unequivocally yes! I think that animals spirits can connect to human spirits to the extent that they choose to return to the Earth plane to be with that human. I told her about Smidgen and how she is supernaturally so alike to Henry and Toque before him, even "patty-caking" to get whatever it is she wants when we never taught her to do this, but did teach Henry, who was a dog and keen to learn goofy tricks like that. Smidgen came to us as a five-week-old kitten, patty-caking her way to indulgence, this behaviour imprinted on her seemingly at birth. I have no other way to explain this than the animal spirit that manifested as Toque and Henry returned to the human spirit with whom it's bonded. I'm assuming that the spirit that's now known as Smidgen will continue to walk the life path with me as long as I'm reincarnating to try to get my own shit together. I'm hoping that this special spirit doesn't tire of my inability to learn and grow beyond the trappings of this plane, leaving me to my own devices to return to the spirit realm where it belongs.

Although I'm very sorry for Amy's family and I feel their pain in their loss of Blaze, I'm thankful to Amy for making me think about the role of animals in this and other planes of existence. I'm kind of ashamed that I'd never thought about it before, but I'm only human and about as far from perfect as any human can be.
tinhuvielartanis: (Nathor)
[livejournal.com profile] clumsycake called Aunt Tudi around 6. She was just heading home after spending a lovely day at the hospital. Sure enough, her bladder has prolapsed and she needs surgery. They sent her home to take it easy until her surgery can be scheduled. 2008....Baby New Year is doin' it rong! He's made of fail this year. 2009 has to be better, there's just no two ways about it.


There's this chick at Sally Foster by the name of Arlene who is the epitome of the Church Lady. She doesn't ask anyone if their deeds are because of SAAAATAAAAN?? but her behaviour indicates that she really really wants to. She's also, as she puts it, very sheltered, despite being around my age, so some of the things she says can only be explained by her lack of experience. For instance, she came into the control room at the beginning of our shift and said to me, "Do you know what Tammy asked me yesterday?"

"What's that?" I asked, thinking that there was no telling, because Tammy loves getting Arlene's goat.

"She asked me if I was married to a black man!"

Taking up Tammy's torch, I asked "Well, are you?"

"No!" Arlene exclaimed, scandalised by the, to her, naughty thought of interracial coupling.

"Well, would you like to be?"

"I don't think my current husband would approve of me having more than one spouse," she said.

"Okay but, if you weren't married, would you like to be married to a black man?"

Arlene turned her eyes to the ceiling in thought, then gave this measured reply. "If I was in love with him, sure. God doesn't see colour, so neither should I."

"God doesn't see colour? Sure she does!" I said, relishing my opportunity.

"No he doesn't."

"Sure she does!" I reiterated.

"No! No he doesn't."

"Of course she does. God sees everything in colour and colour in everything. How else would you explain this beautiful technicolour world in which we live? God definitely sees colour. It's what her creations do with her colours that cause the problems, not with her perception and creation of the colours themselves."

Arlene mulled this over, both the colour philosophy and the god as female implication I insisted on making, then she said, "I never thought about it like that." And she drifted out of the control room, uncharacteristically quiet.

Later on, she was back in there about a different, work-related issue, but got to kidding around with Tammy, Amy, and me. Tammy said something off-colour to her and Amy piped up and said, "I bet you'll be going home to pray tonight, won't you Arlene?"

"No! I'll be right over there on my lane praying as soon as I leave this office!"

"Well, let me know what she says when god answers!" I chortled.

Arlene just looked at me and smiled as she left the control room. Fun!


Earlier today, en route to the hospital, I found something in the Sweet Sweet Ride that makes it even sweeter. [livejournal.com profile] clumsycake was present to see my instantaneous geekgasm upon my discovery. In the storage compartment located between the two front seats, I stumbled upon this:



I know it's blurry, so I'll explain what it is for those who can't make it out: it's a USB port for an iPod. I don't need my FM tuner in my Sweet Sweet Ride. I can patch Son of iGor directly into my Sweet Sweet Ride, which is what I'll be doing first thing tomorrow morning on my way to the dollar store. I'm so thrilled by this new discovery, I am literally light-headed.
tinhuvielartanis: (Here is the news!)
It was a joy ride trying to get my check from Sally Foster. Well, it's not from Sally Foster, really, but the temp agency Personnel Solutions. It turns out that there's another Tracy Evans working on the mini-shift and it confused pay roll to the point of madness, especially since the pay roll person at PS was once a Tracy Evans herself. She's now Tracy Dunn apparently. They had to void Tracy Lynn Evans' check and re-do it, then create a check for Tracy Angelina Evans, and I had to drive to the other side of Spartanburg to the PS headquarters to get it. I made a little under $100 for just 10 hours last year. I found out that I'm actually making $11.85 an hour instead of $10 an hour. WOW! This means I'll be bringing home a little under $200 a week for the next 8 weeks of Sally Season. Pulling in this along with the meager fundage I get from Dollar General and Ingles might get Aunt Tudi and me out of the Hole of Horror.

My neck and head are better. Good thing, too, since I had to use it considerably driving all over Hell and half creation. One of the places I had to go was Bradshaw to sign an authorisation form for Glenn to order the bumper for the ION. I'm scheduled to drop off my car early Tuesday morning to be repaired of all the damages from the wreck. Enterprise will come over then to pick me up and take me to their place down the road so I can pick up my rental car. While I was at Dollar General to pick up my check, Tami gave me the letter documenting the hours I missed there because of the wreck. All I need now is the letter doing the same from Teresa at the bakery and I'll be able to send all my documents to Charlie Kay at State Farm. This insurance company has been very agreeable about everything, so I don't think I'll have to get a lawyer to make sure they pay for my car and medical bills. Mr. Kay even volunteered to pay for the lost wages, requesting letters from my employers documenting the lost time and my rate of pay. That's pretty nifty.
tinhuvielartanis: (Hey_Mon!)
Tonight was the first night all four lanes were open at Sally Foster. Each lane has two lines, so I was responsible for supplying approximately 20 workers with orders on eight lines with essentially only a half day's worth of training. I think I did relatively well. It's like I came in to work and had an epiphany about what I was supposed to do, and everything fell into place. Well, at least that's how it was pertaining to what we were working on tonight. Frank wanted me to supply orders to everyone to the point that they'd all finish up right around 9 PM. All the lines were clear and I ran stats on each lane by 9:05. We pulled over 20,000 units in four hours. Frank said that was unprecedented for a crew of mostly trainees on our first night. I'm thinking that it will all get even easier now that I have some semblance of confidence in what I'm doing. I like working in the Control Room, surrounded by computers. It are fun, yes it are yes it are.


In other news, I hate the grating noise that comes out of Sarah Palin's face every time she opens her pie hole, but I doubt it's really gonna matter much since we're all SKA-REWED.
tinhuvielartanis: (Hey_Mon!)
I started the new job tonight. It was supposed to begin tomorrow night, but they called me in a day early. It's fabulicious! I'll be working in the computer control room, filtering orders out to the warehouse and basically keeping my pulse on the ebb and flow of the work being processed on the mini-shift from 5 to 9 PM each night. The young lady by the name of Brandy (sp) training me is incredible. She's a natural at teaching and is a really sweet girl, being only 29. I took tons of notes, none of which I'll be able to read because my writing is for crap, so I'm depending on my memory to keep my afloat until I learn everything I'm supposed to know. My boss, Frank, had heard about my car accident and told me he was glad to see me present and in one piece considering the situation. I told him I was glad, too. I felt genuinely at ease in a very short period of time there. It was like being back in the music club portion of BMG when it was still the RCA Music Service.

One thing that's not very cool is the Chocolate Room. I capitalise it because it deserves capitalisation. This room is just this side of refrigerated and it contains nothing but specialty chocolates. It smells of milk chocolate and every bin is filled to brimming with rich, buttery chocolate and toffee. It's a chocolate-lover's paradise if the chocolate lover gets to indulge. We employees do not get to indulge and, in my case, someone with PMS pretty much suffers when finding themselves in the Chocolate Room. Fortunately, there's no need for me to go in there, at least I don't believe so. For me, the Chocolate Room is the third ring of Hell.

On a brighter note, employees get goodies during our seasonal employment, so I will probably get some of that chocolate, and some gift wrap and other stuff. Also, we receive bonuses. If I'm there on time every day and work my alloted time each day, I'll be getting an extra $40 a week. That pumps my pay up to $12.00 an hour. This job lasts for 8 weeks, so I need to make this count. If I make a good enough impression, hopefully the temp agency will be able to find me something else once the Sally Foster project is complete.

For the first time in a long time, I'm looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.

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