Inventory My Life
I thought that I'd been through hell until I was forced to do inventory day.
I clocked it at 5.30 in the morning and left at 15 minutes after 16.00 11 hours and it still wasn't finished. I didn't want to be there anymore. I was exhausted, didn't feel well and had an hour commute to face since I was getting a lift home (rather than the 2 hours on the two city buses I have to take.) and I they wanted me to stay later. Fuck that. I don't get paid enough for this.
I was up at 4am to ensure that I could get myself together and get to work on time for 5.30 to clock in for the meeting and start inventory. Everything had to be counted and counted twice. Anything that didn't scan needed to either have a ticket placed on it or a price check. Half the clearance items didn't scan and or didn't have any tickets. We needed to look up almost 1,000 items (these were just the two departments I was split in) and ticket them. Some things didn't come up at all or they had no UPC code. And they say war is hell. Whoever said that has never done inventory at this place. Not that I'm comparing it to the trials and tribulations of war or anything. I think I might prefer war to inventory, I'd get to shoot the annoying people. Or does the Geneva Convention prohibit this sort of behaviour?
I was assigned to lingerie and then kids. Two of the worst possible departments that attract theft and trouble. It started off slow, doing re-counts to make sure that things were indeed counted correctly and making any numbers adjustments. I was too bored to count in just English so I switched it up between German and Swedish. Hundreds and hundreds of knickers counted. I felt sort of like a pervert digging through and counting. I kept thinking of all the ways I could pull the knickers off Chubbs only using my teeth. My thoughts drifted to the wrong side of the aisle that morning. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about high-cut, booty-cut, thongs, a thing called a semi-thong than I ever wanted to know. Sometimes, even though it's days later, I close my eyes and still see the knickers falling down on me. I counted more knickers that any store should ever have. I don't know why they have so many!
Thankfully, I was moved off counting bras and pants and was moved to the children's department to the ticketing. That reading the UPC codes and making tags for the items that are on the floor that either have no tag because some twat has pulled them off or it's been lost on accident. Seeing as it was the children's, some little brats pulled them off. I stood there for hours looking up codes, printing tags and retagging clothes, children's accessories and sticking labels on all of other sorts of shit. I thought the day was never gonna end. 4pm came and pretty much everything was done so I asked a manager if I could go and they're like "Do you have to?" Excuse me? I've been here 11 hours with 1 15 minute break and then 1/2 lunch break. I've been up for hours and not to mention the fact we're 2 hours over when we were supposed to be out. I told them that I had to go and was told that I could. I basically ran across the store to grab my change of clothes and beat it.
I stepped into the late summer afternoon sun, feeling the fatigue hit me as the humidity did. It was a sick kind of freedom. I knew as soon as I got home I'd fall asleep. And that is exactly what I did.
Sorry about the lack of blogs and social media presence guys, I've just been worn out by work and all the other things that I've got going. I'm legit finishing this blog as I sit in the breakroom. This place is worse than an insane asylum with everything that goes on. Thankfully, I've already got my plans together for my Friday day off. Vodka, treats and Sims 4. Nobody better fucking get in my bubble or they will die. Might head up and get some new towels, there's a sale on the massive black fluffy ones that I love. I'm wanting a nice hot bath with lavender to relax.
I was up at 4am to ensure that I could get myself together and get to work on time for 5.30 to clock in for the meeting and start inventory. Everything had to be counted and counted twice. Anything that didn't scan needed to either have a ticket placed on it or a price check. Half the clearance items didn't scan and or didn't have any tickets. We needed to look up almost 1,000 items (these were just the two departments I was split in) and ticket them. Some things didn't come up at all or they had no UPC code. And they say war is hell. Whoever said that has never done inventory at this place. Not that I'm comparing it to the trials and tribulations of war or anything. I think I might prefer war to inventory, I'd get to shoot the annoying people. Or does the Geneva Convention prohibit this sort of behaviour?
I was assigned to lingerie and then kids. Two of the worst possible departments that attract theft and trouble. It started off slow, doing re-counts to make sure that things were indeed counted correctly and making any numbers adjustments. I was too bored to count in just English so I switched it up between German and Swedish. Hundreds and hundreds of knickers counted. I felt sort of like a pervert digging through and counting. I kept thinking of all the ways I could pull the knickers off Chubbs only using my teeth. My thoughts drifted to the wrong side of the aisle that morning. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about high-cut, booty-cut, thongs, a thing called a semi-thong than I ever wanted to know. Sometimes, even though it's days later, I close my eyes and still see the knickers falling down on me. I counted more knickers that any store should ever have. I don't know why they have so many!
Thankfully, I was moved off counting bras and pants and was moved to the children's department to the ticketing. That reading the UPC codes and making tags for the items that are on the floor that either have no tag because some twat has pulled them off or it's been lost on accident. Seeing as it was the children's, some little brats pulled them off. I stood there for hours looking up codes, printing tags and retagging clothes, children's accessories and sticking labels on all of other sorts of shit. I thought the day was never gonna end. 4pm came and pretty much everything was done so I asked a manager if I could go and they're like "Do you have to?" Excuse me? I've been here 11 hours with 1 15 minute break and then 1/2 lunch break. I've been up for hours and not to mention the fact we're 2 hours over when we were supposed to be out. I told them that I had to go and was told that I could. I basically ran across the store to grab my change of clothes and beat it.
I stepped into the late summer afternoon sun, feeling the fatigue hit me as the humidity did. It was a sick kind of freedom. I knew as soon as I got home I'd fall asleep. And that is exactly what I did.
Sorry about the lack of blogs and social media presence guys, I've just been worn out by work and all the other things that I've got going. I'm legit finishing this blog as I sit in the breakroom. This place is worse than an insane asylum with everything that goes on. Thankfully, I've already got my plans together for my Friday day off. Vodka, treats and Sims 4. Nobody better fucking get in my bubble or they will die. Might head up and get some new towels, there's a sale on the massive black fluffy ones that I love. I'm wanting a nice hot bath with lavender to relax.
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