Race Dumbfuckery

October 12th 2017

I’m off today and tomorrow. Inventory for Walmart has finally come to an end and, as far as I’m concerned, the department has been reset to ‘zero’ and I am responsible (more or less) for the future of toys/sporting goods.

A few things happened recently. I’ve been working a lot of hours and way too tired to jot down anything to this journal.

The most important understanding I got this week is ignorant and stupid people come in both flavors of White and Black. My hate for White Ignorant people is a notch higher due to their history, but the results are the same: idiots and dumbfuckery.

My complaints about the low mentality of Blacks in the area is already documented. Shuffling dumb-fucks that can’t complain about hunger with their obese-asses.

Now, we have a lot of country-fuck White people: fucking long-beard mountain pussy’s that walk about as if this was still the civil war era.

Yesterday, this fuck was in my sporting good department and, typically, at the ammo lock-up. One thing you got to understand about White people as a whole and especially dumb-fuck country White people: they buy each other weapons as a fucking gift and constantly stocking up on ammo. Since I started this job, issuing ammo to people, you really get a look at a cross section of ‘fear’.

I’ve been saying for years upon years: if you need to carry, flash or praise the use of guns, you’re a coward.

It’s always about you need a gun for some future self-defense purpose but when the purpose arrives, the overwhelming majority of gun owners are usually the ones shooting up the place in the first place. Take Las Vegas for instance during a recent mass shooting — you can’t defend yourself from a sniper perch and those who won’t support gun control are likely the dead ones. Often always White.

Assholes.

So serves them right when they die.

Anyway, this fucker wants to see a knife in a lock up. I tell him, he can only see one at a time and he gets belligerent about it. Starts getting really loud and I tell him to lower his voice or he won’t get shit. He looks like he wants to call me a nigger but I’m bigger than him and I’m staring in his eyes like I’ll slice his throat with his own knife.

Another problem with White people, as this was the second time this sort of thing happened. They don’t think rules and policy apply to them. Even worse when a Black man is telling them to sit the fuck down. Now you know why they hated President Obama so much. ANY Black man over them is an issue.

So here I am: a Black man telling this asshole what to do.

So he wants to see the manager and I flatly tell him ‘no’. I lock up the cage and walk away.

I know this whole experience pissed him off. Oddly enough, it didn’t get me as mad as I thought it would. Yes, I was a little steamed but to be honest, I felt a little sad for the fool. Let’s go back to the ‘above and beyond’ conversation. This little man meant nothing to me and he was just more annoying than anything else.

White Nationalists are crying fowl that they are being erased from history and I agree with them. Like a cornered rat, they are lashing out with the gun violence and marches with their fagot tiki torches. How cute is that? Pussies.

In the end, I put the fear into that man and he just barked like the dog he was.

Next lesson for the week: I’m letting my hate for the police obscure my educational pursuits.

I just took a preliminary test asking questions about what the police can do for the community. I answered the questions based on what they ‘should’ be doing for the community as opposed to what they actually do and I got things wrong.

I’m not sure how mad I am that the police don’t really do shit for the community based on common sense or I’m mad that I got the answers wrong in the first place.

Either way, I have to adjust my thinking and come to grips that the ‘facts’ about the police suck and my hate is justified … but to pass these classes, I have to, once again, shut the fuck up and keep moving forward.

Troubled

I’ve been on this fence lately. Between going insane and stability. I think I’m finally seeing the cause of past instability at this juncture. It all comes down to food.

What I eat. How long I don’t eat. How much I eat. When I eat. What I don’t eat.

For the past few days, and past few weeks off and on, I have been trying to eat vegan. Most plant-based foods.

At this time, I went two days in a row but the problem is nothing is quick, easier to make. All the things I should be making is long drown out recipes that take up all of my time. Combine with the harder class in Criminal Justice that started and work, you can imagine I do NOT want to spend my time in the kitchen. Sure, Donna cooks, but why should she after work?

Last night, I went to Taco Bell in favor of cooking and it was disgusting. Wasted the money; threw the food out. Never again. I felt like my body was adapting to this new plant-based direction. Hell, for the past few days, my system was cleaning out more than regularly.I was on the toilet more than usual after a few days of vegan.

Going backwards is not the answer. No more meat.

Through all of this, I discovered how foods have been affecting my mental state. Sure, we can eat meats and regular foods and maintain a level of ‘normal’ that might not be considered normal when you switch gears and go to vegan. As the bad stuff purges out, there is a withdrawal situation.I think that’s what I’m going through now.

Anger. Inability to eat what I want when I want it. Making vegan shit takes too much time and I’m sick of mushrooms and green leaves every day.

This is where the troubled aspect comes from. Which is also affecting my school work because last night I had no patience whatsoever for my work.

I need patience. More than ever now.

God help me.

By the way, as I walked out of work yesterday, I found $5.00. Right at the entrance with passing people and crowds and traffic. I felt like that money was meant for me to find.

The thinking is: I left at the right time, doing what I was supposed to do. Walking this ‘good path’, God allowed me to find this money. Now, just because I don’t speak of God in much of this journal doesn’t mean I don’t believe. God and I have a unique relationship. A realistic one that is the bases of this journal: I am a mess and we’re both working on me.

Like all things that change for the better, there will be withdrawal and anger. This journal documents that. So I just need to find peace and keep walking because I’m on the right track. Where I am walking is the right path. Laden with fortune if I just shut the fuck up and do what’s right.

Slight Reversing

October 1st 2017

The other day, I mentioned I sent off an email to request a mentor for Toastmasters. I was given a response welcoming me and requested a time to do a phone conference to get to know me (as well as a request to pay an additional $51.00 on the day of the meeting). That meeting is coming up October 3rd…Tuesday.

I got that email Friday, I didn’t respond yet. Why?

At the heart of what’s going on, I have that ‘old man’ anger brewing. I don’t want to be bothered by people. I don’t want to smile and small talk. I don’t want to talk to anyone. It’s the underlining hate that is spread throughout this journal.

Something I need to kill and stop fucking around if I want to do and go places.

Still, I dread the idea of needing to hear another person’s voice right now. Especially after spending a day being a ‘Yes ma’am’, ‘How can I help you?’ sounding asshole through the day at Walmart.

Oh, Walmart. I inherited a mess of extra little things with a forthcoming inventory and holiday season. I have to go in early Monday morning just to catch up without interference from management and customers. I worked Saturday. If I can weasel my way out of it, I will not work a full day on a Saturday again. It’s almost impossible to get anything done. It’s all customer service mode.

I would say “what did I get into” but I knew what I signed up for. Importantly, the reasons why.

Going back to Toastmasters, I would say “what did I get into” but I knew what I signed up for. Importantly, the reasons why.

Both are required things I must do to perfect my future. Like going back to college in the first place.

I need to shut the fuck up, squash that inner turmoil and walk the fuck forward. Both at job, academics and social growth.

I’ll respond to the email after this post.

Overall – A Good Week

I slapped a Google Analytics snippet on this blog to see if there are any visits or clicks and for the past week, zero. As of this date: 9/29/2017, there is no one reading my journal.

On one hand, it’s refreshing to post a journal online with complete anonymity to say as I please without direct confrontation for the thoughts and feelings I have at the moment of writing. Cause, looking back, I know I’ve said some shit.

No, there is no other hand to this story. I’d rather be free to express myself and write without getting feedback. What am I looking for? Attention? Am I that narcissist; typical of everyone else online — posting for shock value? What is the purpose of this journal if not for someone to read?

The purpose of this journal is a play-by-play journey of one man’s re-invention so others, who may have felt like me, can understand change can happen regardless of the vile thoughts and feelings one may have.

I think a lot of people lie to themselves in order to look clean in front of the masses. Especially when it comes to online presentations. For instance, if I posted that I beat the crap (literally) out of my cat and ditched him in some bushes, the online outrage could carry over into news articles! Seriously. The news gives paragraph space to small subjects just for viral sociability.

That would be terribly distracting to the purpose of this journal. At the same time, writing by hand, in a book, doesn’t allow others to see.

See what? That this man is, indeed, changing. Not necessarily in the interests of cat-lovers, but for the record, when I took Lando out of the car, he was alive and ran into the bushes. I had a dream last night that he found his way home. I certainly hope he doesn’t.

The changes are happening in my interactions with people and with adjusting to my responsibilities. College growth. Work growth. Stabilizing my often-slipping sanity. Those sort of things. Not needing Lexipro as often as I thought.

What I need to do next is round everything off with a better diet. I’ve been exploring a plant-based diet after watching “Forks over Knives” and other Netflix vegetarian programs.

I’m in-between meetings to the next toastmasters. I’ve warmed up to the feeling of getting a mentor and actually participating. I see the advantages of the experience.

Moving on, I met with the associates in my department (LaTonya and Murdock). Murdock seems like a typical-Jamaican asshole that will challenge anything. His every word, if any, is the sound of defiance. Every time I look up, he’s not where he’s supposed to be. LaTonya is cool but something about her is deceptive. Elusive. Smiling in my face, but she makes me uneasy. She does work, though.

So how do I handle having my own employees that I can’t 100% trust? I did the group meeting thing and advised of expectations. Sorta. The company has their own eval process that I’ll simply follow and leave it like that. Both associates do not work during the morning and I usually catch them on my way out.

I’ll be honest, unless they gave me a feeling of absolute compliance, I feel uncomfortable of the impending confrontations. In the past, I’ve always had to be in some sort of confrontation role with my own people. Black people, Jamaicans in particular, are assholes. Lazy fucks that don’t want to do shit and constantly throw their own people under the bus. It’s no wonder white people hate us.

Knowing this, what is this ‘reinvented man’ going to do? Fight…again? Get fired for fighting or saying something slick because the lazy fuck niggers I’m working with are assholes? Say nothing and look like a sucker-ass for not leading them?

Witness the ‘other’ nature of this journal. A place to think, vent and see my own words to make adjustments. You see, you can’t lie to yourself. You can’t hide your feelings or words. At the same time, you can’t let the people you’re referring to see or hear your words. This is just for ‘you’…so you can and ‘think’.

So, no. Going about my work day calling out the associates as Assholes won’t work.

I’ll play it by the numbers. Follow the corporate ready evaluation process and work with the associates and constantly imply that expectations needed to met in order for all of us to do our jobs efficiently. Follow the set Walmart eval plan, conduct them honorably and truthfully — let the slackers weed themselves out.

Keeping my personal thoughts to my journal. There is scripture: “It’s not what goes into the man that offends him. It’s what comes out.” The things I say openly can offend, not only them, but myself as well. I need to be a shining picture of grace as I move through this job.

That said, I had to hide a bunch of merchandise in my backroom. Stuff I had no time to work on and they didn’t want it on the sales floor. Like broken toys that need UPC codes. Shit I want to throw out but, of course, that won’t do. I just didn’t have the time. Hopefully, no one will find it and I’ll be able to work undisturbed. I’m going in early Saturday to handle that.

I just responded to the Toastmasters email(s) and requested a mentor. The next meeting is October 3rd. I have make sure I am mentally adjusted for this…particularly right after work. Come to think of it, I don’t even have any clothes to wear. That’s another re-invention topic.

Department Manager

Man, am I exhausted.

Today is September 26th 2017.

For the past two days, I’ve been getting to work earlier than my shift scheduled. Usually about 3:30am or 4am. My shift is scheduled 6:00am to 3pm.

Why? Because they finally allowed me to actually start working my department, this close to the forthcoming holiday season and a store-wide inventory approaching on October 11th. They originally gave me the position around September 20th, as mentioned earlier.

The department was without a manager for a month. So, I come in with inherited work undone. 500+ price changes. All sorts of other issues. Naturally, they wanted everything completed when they finally got around to getting me installed.

Slow, fucking Georgia. That’s all I gotta say.

I’ve had to gone in early to get work done without being disturbed by customers and endless extra requests by other managers. Oh, and don’t forget late CBL’s (Computer based training).

Again, through all of this: I’ve been here before. I know what I need to do to cover my ass and get the work done. Yes, it means a few days of going in early to play catch-up. The difference is, I am remembering that this is all temporary. What I’m doing toward a law degree is more important.

My grades are still sharp though, I admit, with these early days at work, I’ve almost let a few assignments slip. Nothing terrible. Whereas I do my homework a few days in advance, I almost got caught with two assignments due the next day. Cut it too close.

I’m not planning to do early days for long. I have Tiffany here with me for the week so it’s not fair to her that I’m tired all the time. Still, things need to get done. I foresee another week of this and I’ll be right on time for Christmas prep/Inventory.

I took Donna and Tiffany to dinner at Legal Seafood the previous night. Kind of a celebration of both their birthdays. I usually can’t afford to treat anybody anything. I felt good to be able to do so and still have some money in my pocket.

If working like this is providing me the means to do something for my wife, I’m okay with being this tired. Just as long as I stay on track with the prime directive: Walmart is only about making money, gain leadership credibility. Pay for law school. Get the fuck out after the LSAT.

What’s that? Around the year 2020? Shit. I better be a goddamn Store Manager by that point if it’s going to be like this.

How much do Store Manager’s make? Six figures, from what I understand.

Fuck it. Go for it. Jump to law and do that and more.

If only I can keep my eyes open.

One Down. One to Go

Finally got rid of that damn cat Lando. I’ve taken all I could of it’s shitting and taking over the apartment. At first, I tried to put it in a cage but it got through the holes and escaped. So I was done. Threw it in the car, drove as far as I had time to drive, and dumped it in the bushes.

Some say it will find its way home. Hopefully I brained the fucking thing enough to get the hint its not wanted here. Fucking cats. Never again. Now I have to buy a new broom. More importantly, get a refund on the cage I bought.

Leila is the last one. If it doesn’t respect boundaries, it’ll go too.

The apartment is already starting to smell better down one cat.

Catch up

The date is September 23rd 2017.

The reason I’m mentioning this is because I’ve realized that Tumblr doesn’t automatically post a date and time of postings. I’ve been posting in my journal since July 2017 and, without dates, it’s hard to explain the change of seasons. Both figuratively and literally.

If you search around, you can find ways to add a timestamp to the HTML code. One of the things I would do, in the past, is divert my attention from the work at hand to fiddle around with HTML and coding that is outside of my immediate scope. I have ZERO interest in understanding extra code just for a service to do something basic as add a date to journal postings. Ridiculous.

The most I did was add a Google Analytics ID.

The reason I need to mention the date is because it’s my wife’s birthday. Donna turns 49. I turn 49 in November. I don’t celebrate my birthday and I could careless about other birthdays as well.

The problem is, I know it means a lot to ‘other’ people. I just feel forced and obligated to buy something when, often times, I don’t have the money anyway.

That’s the biggest issue I have with birthdays. September is a rough month because I’m obligated to a bunch of people: Donna, Tiffany (my daughter), my mother and, of course, Doreen. Don’t ask. Find the handwritten journals of my youth to get that story.

I hate birthdays. Especially my own. I was hoping that I would grow into something less hateful in that ‘that’ regard, but it still stays the same. The obligation to ‘do’ for others on one day is enormous. Be sure to send a card. be sure to buy a gift. Be sure to recognize they were born this day. Have a party. Do, do, do, do, do.

For me, it’s another year older that I didn’t accomplish what I wanted. What I was ‘supposed’ to be.

Now, things are different this year. The accomplishments are racking up splendidly. But it’s different. Do you understand that NONE of the things that I am accomplishing this year is part of who I wanted to be in the first place?

So here I am in a position of complaining about the ‘good things’ that are happening in my life. I’m an ungrateful bastard. Truth is, I can take the accomplishments and blessings I have been receiving as of late and spin them toward a film career later; having grown and learned to command the things I work on and the people around me.

Maybe I will start enjoying birthdays, as a result. We’ll see come November 7th.

Side note: I hate cats. I really do.

We have two cats: Lando and Laila. Lando started out a fine, friendly kitten to play with. Now he’s just being an asshole and I look forward to getting rid of them both.

Laila was always stupid and I almost broke her leg once. Looking forward to wringing her neck sooner or later. As for Lando, he’s always looking for attention and constantly a victim to fleas when he doesn’t go outside! The apartment is seemingly clear and free of the pests. Leila is free of fleas so I just don’t know what the fuck is going on.

So, today, the fuck pee’d on Donna’s side of the bed….no reason. Donna said she looked it up and it means the cat is sick. The fuck I care. These fucking animals do nothing but eat, shit and knock shit over. Have a pen and paper on a shelf, they will find a reason to knock it on the floor.

Donna loves them. She’s in my way of ridding my life of these fucks.

I had enough. They scratch all the furniture but she won’t have them declawed. The peeing on the bed was the last straw for me. Sooner than later, I’m going to take that cat for a long ride and dump him in the forest to get lost. I’m tired of closing doors and blocking the blinds from them bending them to look out a fucking window. Cats are pointless and they got to go.

Goddamn Pussy

I had a conversation with a guy at the job the other week. He was pointing out women that walked into the store; checking them out. That sort of thing.

He wanted to know what I thought of one or two of them. I mentioned, “these days I just keep my head down and focus on the work.”.

He didn’t believe me and proceeded to assume I must have someone else aside from my wife.

Fact was, he was referring to an older version of ‘me’. A version of ‘me’ that would have been playing around and feeding into the ‘players’ role. Odd role for a guy that didn’t like people. ‘People’ I can’t stand. But I can love pussy for days.

These days, I don’t recognize that man. I can’t imagine the exhaustive work to put in to pursue a “side chick” just for fucking. I just don’t have the time or energy anymore. Sure, women will always look amazing. Just are they worth it? Hell, they were NEVER worth it in comparison to personal and financial growth.

Before I get into some sort of misogynistic rant, I’ll just leave it there. My self-improvement desires are killing off an old frame of mind.

Still, remnants of the old me still exist. Mostly financial issues. Child support issues. Credit issues. All these things I’m slowly trying to chip at and repair. Personally, I think I’ll be dead before the child support arrears will ever catch up.

Sigh.

I wish I can go back in time and show myself what I found now. I would probably have rejected ‘myself’ in favor of pussy.

Goddamn pussy.

Toastmaster

I received the email making me an official “Toastmaster” member. Along with the email were some food for thought: the opportunities to hold a position/office in the membership.

Now, if you read ANYTHING in this journal, you know my point of view about working with people. Do so if I must, but I hate it. Why would I bother to take on a position that requires me to interact with people? And not get paid for it, too?

Well, this is what this journal is for: to vent and think out the proper strategy.

What was the point of joining Toastmasters if I am not going to be active? I can’t just be a member and not master a toast. I mean, the original plan was to do just that. Not do any speaking, learn and take what I learn to where ever.

The ‘where ever’ is actually right now, to be honest.

I’ll need to speak at Walmart to my associates. To other associates and managers and not sound like an ass. I need to know how to deal with people in a group setting and speak intelligently without getting all nervous.

I’ll need to be able to speak as a professional lawyer.

In short, time to grow the fuck up and merge into society to be the professional I’m spiraling nonstop into. It’s only for the best. The ‘plan’ requires I ‘Be’ … so to undercut any process toward ‘being’ will only keep me back.

I’ll respond to the email and follow the process: request a mentor, look to be a part of the organization and take on a role, etc, etc.

Meanwhile, at the job, word has gotten out that I had prior experience. At first, people were surprised that I was promoted so soon… then they dug deeper and found out my background. I’m not completely sure what people think of me anymore. Maybe it’s because I stopped caring.

Looking above and beyond, remember?

Got two more A’s in my classes. Solid performance thus far. I won’t stop and I’ll carry this perfection over to Toastmasters.

Rise

This is a study about ‘ambition’

As much as I complained earlier about how much I do not like people, I worked ‘people’ to my advantage to get into the next level of my employment journey.

Essentially, glad-handing, introducing myself to the other assistant managers around the building (the more receptive ones, anyway), meeting with the known influential associates that knew how things worked in the building. I kept hammering that I wanted more. And so I got it.

Department manager of Sporting Goods and Toys is going to be troublesome as we move into Christmas season. The thing is, well, let me give you an example of the way people think around here down south:

Yesterday, I was in whats called a ‘Claims’ area. It’s a cage in the backroom where one or two people scan and ship major things out from the store that may have broke. They also print reports for all the departments. I say it’s a cage because it’s literally a steel lock up that is locked when they go home. Management has access if people need to get in.

So, I was there to get some reports on my forthcoming departments; to study up on what needs to be fixed. I noticed there was a big cart of ammo (i.e., bullets) sitting in the cage with her. She said it belongs to my department and they need to get out of there.

I offered to make sure they get where they need to be later today. I don’t officially get into my department until Saturday but, my thinking was to take care of the issue now before my work REALLY begins.

The woman that ran claims was like, “Just leave it. You’ll have a lot to worry about when you start. Somebody will take care of it.”

Considering that there is no department manager in there until Saturday, aren’t ‘I’ the only one whose going to take care of it?

You see, much of the associates/managers in the store are a bunch of Georgia Sweet Tea motherfuckers that like to take it easy and get things done ‘eventually’…later … in due time. While they chatter on about the Falcons or some shit.

What I’m going to do is talk to security and see what they’re process is for the ammo to be moved later today. I won’t let it sit in that cage another day.

My point of bringing up the cage and the ammo is, what others here think is going to be hard, if I don’t let anything slip and bullshit like these guys do, I’ll do wonders at an easy pace as long as I tend to situations immediately, if I can.

I already came up with an action plan to give to my immediate manager later this week.

Regarding AIU, I was given a grade for an assignment (an ‘A’ but at a 94%) and I contested it and got it raised to a 98% (I had some other error that couldn’t deny). Still 4.0

This is a study about ‘ambition’.