It is 5:14 AM.
It is also 75 outside. And, additionally, it is 88.7 in my Man Cave. This is, at least, lower than the 93.2 that it had been in here for most of the day yesterday.
Normally, the heat makes me tired and groggy, listless, and out of sorts, and this time it's not much different, but this time around I have this sort of...well...restless component to being hot. Yes, I'm sweating. A lot. Yes, I'm sticky and needing to drink large amounts of liquids. I can't really help that. But I'm not sleepy or lethargic, really. I'm just...twitchy? I suppose? I don't know exactly how to describe it. I have little patience for things, and the little things have been setting me off. Not majorly, no, but I've been getting peeved at stupid shit.
Case in point: tonight, in the overnight hours, I went to Walmart to get the cats their litter and pick up a few things for around the house (toilet paper, tealight candles for my oil burner, a bottle of soda, etc). This also included my cigarettes, as they are generally the primary reason for going to Walmart on any given day. When I got to Walmart, I found that they were waxing the floors -- something they've been doing a lot recently for some reason -- and the entire center of the store was closed off. This included checkout aisles from 12 to 17, as well as the bathrooms. Aisle 15 is the only aisle in the store with cigarettes, and thus it is the only one open 24/7 no matter what.
Okay, I thought, so they're waxing the floors. I've been in the store numerous times while they've had certain aisles roped off, and they take care of those aisles quickly and efficiently, moving the ropes over to the next aisles afterwards. I'm used to this. So, I did my shopping. I took my time. I wandered the store a lot (or as much as I could, anyway, given the ropes).
When I was done, they still weren't finished.
When I loaded my stuff onto the checkout belt, I asked the cashier (who was someone new) if there was any way they could get to the cigarettes.
"Let me check," she replied, and then called over the night shift manager -- a woman who knows me in the store as a regular customer on the overnight shifts.
"Nope," the night shift manager replied. "This part of the store is shut down completely until the morning. We can't even get to the bathrooms."
"Wow," I said. "That sucks. I'm sorry."
"Oh, tell me about it," she replied, nodding. "When they do this it's a huge pain in the ass for all of us."
I wasn't even angry or upset about the cigarettes, as I told Daisy later upon getting home -- I can go out and get smokes anytime. It's not like I have a pressing schedule, exactly. No, what upset me more was the fact that not even the employees had access to the bathrooms on their shift, and that they were completely hindered in doing their jobs because of it.
I've worked in retail stores. Several of them, grocery stores. You know how often the floors got waxed in those stores? About once every six months. Yes, we swept and ran the floor scrubber and buffer almost every night, but for the entire store it took about two hours to do. Total. And that was only when we had the full two hours to be able to devote to it -- on nights we didn't have trucks and stock to put up. Almost every time I'm in Walmart in the night now, they're waxing the floors.
It's a Walmart. It's not like you've got anyone to impress, Mr. Walton.
Anyway.
Daisy told me upon my return home that she loves the fact that I care about and have compassion for other people.
"Those are good people," I told her. "They've always been really nice to me, they treat me well, and the night shift knows me because I'm a regular customer there during those times. And I think it's fucking stupid that they don't even have access to the bathroom for an entire shift."
"There's probably another bathroom in the back, or by their break room," Daisy replied.
While this may be true, it's the principle of the matter that bothers me the most. Again, I worked in retail a long time -- off and on for about five years. I wrote my first book about my experiences working in retail. I know that it's not a pleasant job, and there's a lot of shitty things retail workers have to put up with in order to make a living. It's also why I feel a great deal of compassion for people in those situations.
So, I came home, talked to Daisy for a while (who was swamped at work, so I told her I'd talk to her later and not bother her), and tried to go to bed. However, much like last night, I found myself completely unable to sleep. Again, restless. Agitated. Hot and sweaty. I played a game for a while, I made some food, and I ordered a few small things on Amazon (like my cats' food, which is cheaper on there than it is in the store).
Since starting this post, I have also taken a cool shower in an attempt to rinse all of the sweat off me and make myself feel a bit better. I am still not tired enough to sleep. I may or may not venture back out to Walmart to get my smokes before I go to bed -- I haven't decided yet. I have a full pack left, so there's no real rush, but I'm debating on whether or not I want to go out this morning again, or this evening when I get up. I suppose I could also go over to the smoke shop next to the post office as well, if I wanted to, but I have no clue when they open. The driving distance is roughly the same.
Nah, screw it. I'll wait until I get up this afternoon to go back out. I don't care if it's hot. It's going to be hot regardless; temperatures are expected to hit 100 today. No, that's not a typo. Again, I'll remind you that a month ago it was fucking snowing. I was able to avoid a lot of the heat yesterday by going to bed in the early morning and sleeping with the fan turned on me the entire time I was asleep, which made things much better.
I got to see something fairly quizzical and/or interesting in the overnight hours; from about 9PM onward, I saw the same car making its rounds around the neighborhood as if it was looking for something or someone -- it wasn't the cops or anything, just a car. It drove slowly up and down streets, with the driver holding a high-powered flashlight out the window, looking up and down driveways and between houses. It came down my street twice and turned around in my driveway twice, and then on my way home from Walmart at around 12:30, I passed it going the opposite direction as I took the back way home...the driver still had the flashlight out the window looking for whatever it was they were looking for. Strange. I did see, as I was coming back down my street, a beautiful cat that I'd never seen before sitting at the edge of the road, so maybe that's what they were looking for. And it just sat there and watched me pass, so who knows. If the car kept driving around the neighborhood afterwards, I didn't pay attention; I was back here in my Man Cave and not out front in the living room.
It's apparently been somewhat finalized that Daisy and I will be spending the 4th of July in Omaha together. She should be off that day, and wants to come down the day before (or something like that) to get me. She'll have to work that weekend afterwards, and then I'll come back home.
"It's whatever you want to do, babe," I said. "I'm happy to do whatever you wish."
This is true; while I'm not exactly thrilled about being there for several days while she will be working overnights (which leaves me with little to do), spending the 4th together is important to both of us, and it'll at least give me some time to keep looking for work and to be able to sleep in a house with good air conditioning. Plus, I'll get to see and spend time with Daisy's parents again, which is always a delight. Mama has been wanting me to dye fabric with her at some point -- now that school is no longer in session, this may be a good time to do that. We didn't get the chance to do it when I was up there after my graduation. I won't have any real cash to spare this time, but it doesn't look like I'll need it anyhow with the way Daisy's work schedule is going to be during my visit this time around.
On that note, folks, I'm going back to bed. I have more to write about, yes, but it can and will wait.
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