Friday, October 09, 2009

Mundane Friday Afternoons

I sit down at my desk and put the mail tote on the floor. It's brimming with bloomers. The clock blinks at me: 5:26. I'm supposed to leave at half past today, but I really want to get this one last package out. I pick up a bloomer. No obvious stains. Ruffles properly attached and all. I peek at the tag. Sized right. I place it in the pile, by order of size. 2T on the bottom, face down, 18-24m, 12-18m, 6-12m face up, 3-6m. Make sure they all fit nice and neat into a plastic bag. I repeat this process 50 times or so in just under 20 minutes, unless there are quality issues. Those can eat at my minutes. Luckily, this batch is all good.

I tape up a box, place the product inside and weigh it. Write it down, or else I'll forget. It doesn't take much to distract me. I want everything in this order to be particularly good, because it's for a new store. I stick in a glossy poster so that everyone who comes into their store can see just how cute our products are. I include a couple pens so that every time they had a customer a pen to sign a credit slip, they think of our company. Plus they write in purple ink.

I pull up the fedex website and start typing in the information. It's nearing 5:50. I still have to stop by the bank and fedex before 6pm. I print out the shipping label. Seal up the box with our signature tape and affix the prepaid Fedex label. 3 boxes, totaling around 20 lbs. I should do two trips, but I'm in a hurry. I grab my pea coat and keys, sling my purse over my shoulder. I glance at my desk. Is there anything that can be completely lost and/or forgotten when it's shoved unceremoniously into a drawer on Sunday?* No. Good. I crouch down and grasp the bottom box, stand and make my way to the door. This is the tricky part, but once I get out, I see Mark walk into the office. He offers help, but I decline.

"Just close the door behind me," I call.
"Alright. Nice carry!" he calls, amused. The boxes loom over my head.
"See you Monday."

The boxes are worked into my truck and I hurry out of the neighborhood, down Sharonview to Colony to Fairview to Sharon. I think of the boxes in my trunk. I glance at the clock. 5:56. Oh. I cross my fingers and hope that the Ground truck will still be at the Fedex/Kinkos when I get there.

I don't have a deposit slip, so I pass my driver's license and paycheck through to the teller. He looks up my address and give me a funny look.

"When's the last time you used your account?"
"Umm.. this morning. Yes, $5.00 at Circle K." Apparently my account shows as closed. I turn the car off and wiggle my way out of the car without scratching the door on the drive-up walls. I stowed my pea coat with the boxes and must retrieve my debit card from the pockets.

My account is sorted out. He explains that there is a second account opened in my middle name for the same address on my license. I laugh.

"My mother, that's my mother's old account."

We chat as he cashes my check and passes my money and cards back. I idle in the driveway, waiting to pull out onto Sharon Road. 6:04pm. The Fedex Ground truck glides past me, headed away from the Sharon Rd Fedex. Shit. I continue to idle. Making a quick decision, I turn right on red and catch up to the truck, hoping to follow it to it's next stop. Surely it will stop at another Fedex and I won't just be following it for miles and miles.

Thank god, it stops at Providence Rd. My favorite Fedex. They're nice at this location. They tend to ignore you at Sharon Rd and you place your prepaid packages by the counter and swear that if they don't arrive at the location you're holding those rude employees accountable. At Providence Rd, they will even chat with you and wish you a nice weekend. Maybe they're happier people in general.

I drive home. I'm tired. I want to eat ice cream and laze about in bed. And, you know, tell you all about my afternoon in nauseating detail.

In case you're at all wondering, I'm packing a wholesale order. I sit down once or twice a week and knock out all that have come in that week. I actually packed 5 orders, but two are going via USPS International Priority. During packing, my desk is covered in ruffles of all types. This is a fraction of my actual job. Maybe tomorrow, I'll tell you all about emailing customers to explain to them that their items are on back order, won't that be fun?

No, really I love my job. It might sound a little mundane, but I like doing office work. I like the fact that, when the RuffleBosses' parents are in town (like today) they can hang out with their parents and not worry about what's going on at the office. Mrs. RuffleBoss is a ridiculously busy woman and I have no clue how she does it. Lots of coffee, I presume. But I like that by working my RuffleJob full time, it gives her time to be not only a CEO but a mom as well.

*Things are shoved unceremoniously in drawers every Sunday because there is a showing. I'm still missing things that were hidden one weekend.

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