bean counting

Tonight was inventory night at the store. That meant we got to close the store an hour early, which meant I got to take a little bit of sick pleasure at ushering out the people who (naturally) hadn’t seen the bazillion hot pink signs we put up saying we’d close at 9.

We all had to put a hand in counting sections, and since Cooking had been my pet project since I volunteered for it way back in the “get ready for a remodel and reshelf” days, I opted to count it. Before I was told we were only supposed to do a sampling — or five bays worth of shelves –, I had done 25, or 4/5 of the entire cooking section.

Oh well.

I think I needed being linear like that. I had another breakdown somewhere in between the Veganomicon and Martha Stewart’s Cupcakes. My mind started wandering about the good times and good feelings I had working here. I found it hard not to think about the smiles on my co-worker’s feelings and just feeling brokenhearted. I probably would have felt this way anyway come September, if I had just resigned and gotten to let them all meet Tyler and said my goodbyes and left in the sunset like I had it all planned in my head.

But we’re liquidating.

Luckily, I straightened up again before I moved on to sample one other section of the store, did all my other assorted inventory-related tasks and left for the night.

I still have two more nights of this before my scheduled days off. Oh my freaking gawd. My back might actually snap in half before that happens.


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