Have I mentioned lately that I’m too old for My Retail Job? Why, yes, I think I have. If you missed my myriad of reasons, please click here.
There is now a new reason why I think I am too old for My Retail Job. The crap I do there is intended for the back of a 20-something year old. Or a camel. But I am neither so therein lies the problem. How did I even get hired for this job? I am a humpless mature woman (remember, I have been reminded twice). Hmmm. If you ask DH, it’s because “I’m smart, reliable and trustworthy.” Apparently, the world is in short supply of these attributes.
That is all well and good, but it still doesn’t hide the fact that I’m old for this job. Yesterday I was pushing some product, helping to unload the truck. When there was a sudden pain in the bottom right part of my back. What’s it called? Whatever it is, it hurt. So, I took some Advil, and it worked its magic. Masking the pain. So what did I do? Pushed more product.
This morning I am lying in bed. Writing this post. I should be cleaning the kitchen from last night, doing at least one of six loads of laundry and washing the toilets. Am I? No. Because I can’t move.
I have to work later today. Until almost midnight. Looks like I’ll be O.D.’ing on some Motrin so I can get through it. And making My Retail Job people document what happened. You know, just in case it doesn’t get better. Which it will. It’s just a pulled muscle, I’m sure. But you never know. I really hate complaining about stuff like this. But what did they expect? They hired a dinosaur. Wait. Didn’t dinosaurs have strong backs?Mo