And this would be the end of the flashback. Hopefully, I haven't lost too many of you because of it. Story starts back up on Thursday.

I've gotten a couple of comments on it in the forum (by all two of you, please guys, start visiting there more) and know this is probably offensive to some of you...well, if you're mentally healthy and breathing, it SHOULD be offensive to you. But it is a part of Lucy's life, so it's another demonstration of how the writer doesn't always get to choose what goes into the story. Apologies, and the only thing I can do if you are offended beyond all mortal reason is say that it should be worth it in the end.

I hope.

In other news: Current NaNoWriMo total is just over 10k words. Story is going very well, and it's absolutely lovely as far as I'm concerned. Lets hope the rest of it goes as well.

I am taking the fact that my manager has me training the new people a sign that I may be sticking around a while longer. I hope. (I hope I hope I hope). One of the new hires did not come back after lunch, so I don't think we'll see her again. She was the one I was training. I'm hoping it's not my fault. I don't think it is. She wasn't too thrilled by the glorified adding machine they call a cash register there.

I now officially hate Mondays. Not only do they change the sales on us on Monday, but it's just so hard to keep going and going and...grrrrr. It's even worse when BOTH Wall-mart and the breakroom vending machines are out of Mountain Dew (Well, Wall-Mart probably wasn't but thier vending machine was, and I did not feel like wasting lunch break in a line streaching back to the interstate). People demonstraited their standard lack of common sense today, changing their minds at the last second and INSISTING that something is on sale because it was under the fifty percent off sign for the beads (that clearly says "BEADS") when it isn't. It was also Grand Opening today, which means that the Manager has doubled his cigarette intake and begun attempts at teleportation.

Also, I have two questions to you mainstream, fashion followers out there? What the heck is up with lime-green and pink color combinations for CHRISTMAS, and since when do children just HAVE to have thier own trees? We have an extreamly bright tree display of very green and very pink ornaments and feathers, but I had chalked it up to just being the usual eclectic artistic talent of our flower arrainger (who is, suprisingly, male and completely heterosexual) until no less than four women came last week and stocked up on enough green-and-pink to choke small mammals. One of these green and pink ladies had a conversation with another lady (talking over me like I was a part of the senery. I suppose as a cashier I am, but it's still rude) about how "every child needs to have thier own tree."

.....wha???? Why? I don't even get decorating a whole house for chirstmas beyond the tree part--the tree part is cool, as long as the tree is (1. live and (2. coated with enough tinsle to plate a space shuttle, and enough lights to be an active fire hazard--because putting up three thousand dollars worth of garland and shedding bead-covered foam fruit (gag) for two weeks makes ALMOST as much since as a stairmaster. Decorating your kid's room? I was a kid. I did not need my own chirstmas tree. I did not want my own chirstmas tree. There was already one in the house. If I wanted to fool around with a tree, I could go into the living room and spend a happy hour playing with the tinsle. Maybe these hypothetical children getting neon green feather trees aren't allowed in the living rooms of thier parent's houses, which would explain the need for them to have their own personal chirstmas tree so that they don't get left out of the family. However, I would think it made more sense to include their children IN the family by making there be only one tree that everybody decorated, everybody gathered around, and in other words, was a total family event. Somehow I think family time beats having matching crystal-and-silver-glitter ornaments on the living room tree so that your neighbors can be sutibally awed into submission. But hey, what do I know? I'm just the cashier.

CW - Chelsea Gaither