Recently in Tales from a Bookstore Category

No blogging last night; a storm moved into the area and I decided to just shut my computer off and unplug it.

I managed to make it through 4 hours at work yesterday before needing to come home.  This makes sense considering I've been  stuck on the couch for 2 weeks.  I wasn't sick, just exhausted.  And yes, I know how lucky I am to have a job which allows me to leave whenever I want.  Especially one that surrounds me with books!

Speaking of which, I've discovered that we carry a book on "Extreme Pumpkin Carving."

sigh

Why must everything be "extreme" these days?  It's ridiculous!  What's next, extreme toenail clipping?  Extreme nose picking?

Honestly.

I suppose I'm getting better.  I'm still dealing with stomach pains and cramping, but I'm more alert now.  Do you know, I've actually gone days without turning my computer on at all.  Now, I stay off of computers when I'm on vacation, so it isn't unprecedented.  But I never go a day at home without at least checking my email.  But I did this week.

To be fair, I was totally absorbed by the Twilight Saga.  I read all 4 books (Twilight, New Moon, Eclipse and Breaking Dawn), twice.  I became totally immersed, and am already missing the characters I grew to love.  This series isn't for everyone, of course, and I wouldn't insist that you all read it.  It's become a permanent part of my collection, though, and I would recommend it to those of you who are at all intrigued.

Other than reading and watching the Olympics, I haven't done much.  I tried to go to work on Monday, and I made it through 2 hours.  My boss took one look at me when I walked in and tried to send me home, but I wanted to give it a shot.  By the end of the 2nd hour, though, my legs burned as though I'd just run miles.  She told me to just stay home until I'm well, so that's the plan.  I need money though, so it's a short-term plan.

If I'm strong enough, Randy is going to drive me to school tomorrow to get my books while there are still some used copies to be had.  I went online to the school's bookstore; if I only buy used, and only buy the required books and not the recommended ones as well, I'm looking at $500 minimum.  And on a side note, why not just call Human Biology "Anatomy and Physiology" if every textbook and supplementary material is called "Anatomy and Physiology?"  Only the lab book has the words "Human Biology" in it.  Time to buy Anatomy and Physiology Demystified and Anatomy and Physiology for Dummies, I think.  I believe that's about my level right now.  I'm so not ready for this coming semester.

I think it would be cheaper and easier to drop out of school to give birth to a herd of elephants, than to finish my education.

No wonder I don't feel well.

I haven't had much to share from the bookstore lately, but I do now.

For example, does it disturb anyone else that there's a Complete Idiot's Guide to Teaching College?

But that's nothing compared to an order I filled today:

Dynamite Fiend
Steal this Vote
The Assassination Business

I find this person troubling.  Either they have really grim tastes in reading, or somebody needs to watch their back.

Every time I pick a book that has to do with guns- and we have more than a few- I make sure that the book I give them is in as pristine condition as I can find.  I don't want to upset a gun-toting reader!

Today someone ordered a Blue Book of gun values, and also a book on 10 Minute face lifts you can perform at home.

I now have a mental image of a man holding a gun on his wife, demanding that she look 10 years younger or else.  

Or perhaps a woman wants to look younger to attract a certain man but, if the face lift doesn't work, she'll always have the gun for persuasion.

Either way you look at it, face lifts and guns don't mix.

Randy says thanks for the Hatch Day wishes!

I had an interesting day at work.  I was called upstairs to the office, and I was a little apprehensive.  I couldn't think of anything I'd done wrong, but you never know.  My supervisor told me it was nothing bad, but I've never been called up there before, or heard that anyone else had been.

As it turns out, it was an informal job interview.

They need someone to enter orders into the computers, do confirmations, that sort of thing.  Since no one person so far has the availability to cover the hours needed, they're asking a few of us if we'd be interested/willing to work a couple of days in the office to make up the job that would normally fall to one person; this saves from having to hire someone new.  They're talking to a couple more people to see how they can best schedule things, but it seems that a couple of days a week I'll be doing data entry.  This is actually a good thing, I think.  My wrist has been bothering me a lot lately, and being able to put in my hours in a less physical way is probably a good idea.  Besides, it shakes things up a little from the usual routine.

But ask me again once I've done it a few times.  I might hate it.

I'll let you know how things turn out.

Another night without sleep.  The bags under my eyes have bags, and there are now dark circles.  I chose to stay home from work today.  Tired as I am, I couldn't sleep if you paid me to.

As I vegged on the couch, an ambulance pulled up at the end of my driveway.  Then the paramedics pulled up behind them.  For a split second I thought "Is there something wrong with me?"  and poked at myself to make sure.  I appeared whole and it occurred to me that if I had somehow mysteriously had a coronary and managed to call for help before lapsing into unconsciousness or- gulp- dying, I surely would have some memory surrounding the event.

All of this skittered through my head much more quickly than it takes to tell.  The paramedics often meet the ambulance en route to the hospital if they are needed; such was the case today.  The ambulance had started for the hospital and called for the paramedics to meet them along the way.  They just happened to rendezvous at the end of my driveway.

The thing of it is, they were there for a few minutes, and cars were driving by all the while.  The bookstore is just down the road from my house, and people are always coming and going.  I wonder how many people, seeing that I wasn't in work today and knowing that I wasn't feeling well yesterday, now think that I'm in the hospital?

I'm sure someone will ask me about it when I go in tomorrow.  Should I tell the truth, or make up a really fun story? *G*

So here's the deal:

I've been irritable>exhausted>irritable>exhausted etc. for the past couple of days.  It finally came to a head yesterday at work.  Two days in a row I walked in to find one of my biggest pet (work) peeves in full force.  First I'll have to explain a little about this aspect of the work I do...

When we pick orders, they get put on 8, 16 or 20 carts.  These numbers represent how many slots each cart has, one order per slot; there are usually several books per order.  The size of the orders and/or the size of the books themselves dictate what type of cart they go on, indicated on the order-picking sheet.  Those who are picking books pick up the sheets and grab the appropriate cart, and start pulling the necessary books, placing them in the correctly numbered slot (each book pulled has been assigned a slot number).  When the orders and the carts have been filled, they are brought back into shipping, where the carts are "broken down" one by one.  There are usually 2 or 3 people doing this.  Those who are breaking down take each order from its slot on the cart, weigh it to make sure that it's the right weight,  a process which is necessary for shipping cost purposes.  There's a long, oval shaped conveyor belt with lunch room-style trays on it, and the person breaking down places the weighed order on a tray on the conveyor belt, again one order per tray, until the cart has been emptied and they grab another to unload.  On the other side of the conveyor belt are cubbies with people either "boarding" or "boxing" the orders.  Boxing is pretty self-explanatory; larger orders go in boxes.  However many of our orders aren't that large, and we "board" them.  Simply put, this means that we take a sheet of cardboard and wrap it around the book(s) with its order slip and a copy of our catalog, crimping and stapling the ends before sending it down another conveyor belt for delivery.

With me so far?

So here's my pet peeve.  I come in and want to pick a 20 cart; there are a ton of orders waiting to be filled.  BUT, almost all of the 20 carts are full, waiting to be broken down.  There aren't enough people boarding, and the trays on the conveyor belt are full of books from the 16 and 8 carts.  There are plenty of 16 and 8 carts already available to pickers, but the people breaking down are ignoring this fact and just keep breaking those down as the 20s pile up.  People have their favorite carts to work with, and ignore the others.  I get this with picking, but there's no difference between carts when breaking down.  Maybe they have a touch of OCD too, but they won't break down the 20s unless told to.  Anyway, I jumped into a cubby and started to board in order to clear out some trays for 20s, but the people breaking down continue to fill them with the other orders almost as quickly, and I'm getting steamed.  To make matters worse, the stapling machine in the cubby I ducked into is defective; the staples kept breaking or not going through the cardboard.  I found Joel, the shipping supervisor, and explained what was happening with my stapler.  He came over, tried one staple and of course, it worked for him.  He made some smart crack, and I snapped.  I informed him that I was not in the mood to play, I just wanted it fixed.  It wasn't what I said so much as how I said it, and it felt good to do it I have to admit.  Luckily, he's a mellow person and someone I'm friendly with, so it didn't really bother him.  He moved me to another station and after awhile I got enough orders boarded that I could go break down a 20.  I kept that up almost all day, jumping from breaking down to boarding.  I apologized to Joel later, and he said "That's what I'm here for."  I informed him that he is not there to be snapped at, that he's there to listen when someone has a problem, and to address it if he's able.  He insisted that he's there to be snapped at.  I decided to let it go, wondering all the while how he got so beat down that he believes that he's truly around to get dumped on.  I simply apologized again and thanked him for understanding.

Having had that brief snit, I felt- and continue to feel- better.

That was long, so I'll leave it there for now.  Except that I'll share this fun thing with you...

Leaving out the first name for the sake of this person, I boarded an order for an O Fender.  Say it out loud if you need to. :0)

The address was a legit one, so I think that this is, unfortunately for him, his actual middle initial and last name.

After making a rather dumb mistake at work, I began to wonder:

When I go gray, will I still be blonde?

Look familiar?  I've managed to make the blog look almost identical to its pre-upgrade state.  I'm still working on a new look, but I couldn't take the blandness of the default template anymore, so I adapted my old look to work here in the meantime.

Ready for a new Tale from a Bookstore?

Today I filled an order which included the aforementioned book on how to poison someone.  In addition to this, they also bought a book on Colt revolvers, and two books on learning Spanish.  I get the feeling that someone wants a South American really and truly dead; they're not taking any chances!

With books and fertile imagination, I'm almost never bored.

Today someone ordered both Howdunit's Book of Poisons and Granny's Recipes, Remedies and Helpful Hints. 

How to harm and how to heal.  Either we're dealing with a budding mystery writer, or I've got a potential client when I get my doctorate.



(Munchausen's is the disorder in which a person secretly harms themselves in order to get attention, particularly from the medical community)