Things have been crazy/hectic lately… I haven’t really even updated my Twitter, which is/was supposed to be my little daily memory-joggers…
I’m not sure if I’ve updated on some of this stuff, but it all fits together in the end…
The house we’re renting is being foreclosed because the homeowners went through a nasty divorce and decided to let the mortgage go. The $700 we were paying every month, that was going straight to them, went straight to their pockets instead of to the house, all because of their greed, selfishness, and immaturity.
The auction date for the house is getting nearer and nearer: August 13th.
All we really had to do was find another house to rent, and we had over 2 months, at the time, to get it done. But, we procrastinated. We did keep looking, but more passively than we should have.
About 2 weeks ago, the possibility of moving to Illinois surfaced. Dave’s mom offered her basement to us, if we were to move there, until we were able to find an apartment or house to read. I looked over our finances, and realized we could do it, we could afford to get there. Even though the price quote for PODS was almost $3,000, we could still do it!
So, we were faced with a decision, a HUGE decision…
Still the days passed, and no final decision was made… until last night…
I was at work, and things were going well. Up until yesterday, they had much improved, with the exception of Gwen, the 3rd shift stocker, giving off hateful energy, and occasionally using a hateful tone of voice with me as well. I had made the decision, voluntarily, to take care of the break-pack boxes so that everyone would just shut up about it. If that was the only problem, why not fix it myself, because management wasn’t getting anywhere with it. Once I finally saw Royanna, I told her, and she thanked me. That was just a few days ago, actually.
Then, last night happened. Before 8:00pm, I was finished with all my work in the department. I really just wanted to go home, so I could talk to Dave about the decision that had yet to be made. Instead, I offered my help to another department if they needed it. Becky sent me to stationary, and I got straight to it. I was having a panic attack by 9:00. I blame it on the fact I hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was dehydrated. I got myself calmed down pretty quick, thankfully.
I was helping a customer, and saw Royanna walk past the isle, and could tell she saw me, but thought nothing of it. She was just there shopping, I was sure, because she had left hours earlier. A few minutes later, she walked up to me, while I was still helping the same customer, and hastily reprimanded me for leaving the Pharmacy department, and warned me not to do it again, because I’m under *her* payroll and it doesn’t matter what *anyone else* says, I listen to *only her.* I had my teeth clenched, to postpone the outbreak of tears, and just nodded. She looked at her watch, noting it was time for me to leave, and told me to go home. All the while, the customer I was helping was right there, hearing *everything.*
I didn’t even make it to the back before the tears started pouring. I was able to get to Becky to tell her what had happened, and she said she’d be calling Royanna’s District Manager tomorrow (which is today), and that she had no right to speak to an associate that way. Might I add, she had no reason to speak to me about work whatsoever, considering Walmart’s *strict* policy against working off the clock. Becky also told me that, when I returned to work on Friday, I was to report directly to Pam (store manager) or Wendy (co-manager). I wouldn’t have to worry about Royanna.
On my way home, I called Dave, to get calmed down so I could drive safely. (Bluetooth, of course.) I don’t recall the course of our conversation, but alas the decision was made, and the plans were set in motion. We’re moving to Illinois. We’re renting a Budget truck, the same size as the Pod we would have rented, for under $1,000. It should only cost around $1,000 total to get there, and we’ll have plenty left over until we can start working there.
We have to find out if we actually have to be gone by the 13th. Hopefully we’ll be able to stay longer, so we can get everything situated and pace ourselves, minimizing the mental and physical stress of it all. We could probably guarantee our exit by the 20th or so… we shall see. We’re also checking into how quickly we can get our security deposit back, and we need to check on why we *still* haven’t received our Federal Return or Stimulus Check. Altogether, that’s a *lot* of money we’ve been expecting but haven’t received…
Well, that about brings everything up to speed, though I still can’t entirely recall each and every day…
