Carpe Diem

Wat anders kan mens doen?  Wanneer jy wakker word en voordeur toe strompel met slaap in die oe en ‘n gaap van hier onder in jou maag en die Suid-Ooster wind klap jou wakker en dra met hom die reuke en klanke van die vroeg oggend vissermanne.  Wat anders kan mens doen as om te se: Carpe Diem, today is my day!

Soos ons leer by The Greatest Salesman in the world (dankie, dankie, duisend dankies Og Mandino!): Today I will live like it is my last, I will multiply my efforts.  I am unique, I am nature’s greatest miracle!

Koebaai vir gister en hello vandag, kom ons kyk wat jy vandag na my kant toe gaan gooi!


Hello World!

Well, HELLO WORLD! For months now I have been reading the posts and contemplating starting my own blog, but you know what it’s like, right?  It’s like going to the dentist or washing the car, one of those things that can wait…

Today, as I got home after one of THOSE days, I decided, that’s it.  I’m blogging.  Somewhere, somehow I have to find a way to vent and this is it.  So here goes…

I work retail, mmmm fun! After a long day of going, yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir, all I wanted to do was get home, have a good cup of coffee, a siggie (or two) and catch up on the blog reading.  However, this is the scene that I walked into at 19:45:

A 7-year old with more energy that 10 ravers on speed and red-bull, running around naked as the day he was born (because “I’ve decided I don’t like clothes anymore, mommy”) while hammering away at little chunks of cement, on the living room tiles, he picked up in the garden (because “I  just want to find you some diamonds, mommy).  Cats twirling around my feet, for love, attention, food and a clean litter box (because they can’t do it in the garden like normal cats!) and stumbling over boxes (because I’m moving in two days and oh yes, have I mentioned, I work retail!).


That was when I decided that this is my time to blog… let it all out in long, slow breaths and blog.

First, there was the office politics: two girls vying for my attention, trying to score browny points with the boss, each with their own version of a story, which by the way turned out to be half truths on both their parts.  Solution: call both into the office, tell both stories as they were told to you and watch the fireworks.  Not the best solution you may think, but I’ve tried everything over the past 10 months and nothing worked.  Maybe this will.

Then there was a call from a manager at another branch telling me to call this client as she wants to speak to me.  About what, he wouldn’t say.  Mystery intrigues me, so I called her.  Oh My Hat!  This lady of about 70 starts going off at me for a full 8 minutes about the “fraud” in my shop, about how pathetic we are, yada-yada-yada, just to figure out that it all happened at another shop!  To clear up any confusion, I manage a franchised branch of a popular cellular service provider.  After another 10 minutes on the phone, I’ve managed to calm her down and invited her for coffee and cookies next week to try and sort out the mess.  Just as I’m almost done with this, I notice one of the girls bouncing up and down next to me, phone in hand “someone wants to talk to you”.  Now, any normal human being would think that they can take a message.  Aaaaah, not where I work.  So I politely get old lady off the phone and onto the next one.  Mysterious lady number two (by the way, if you EVER get to read this: I know your voice by now, we only speak about 10 times a week!): hi, I need to buy a data bundle, can I just give you my credit card details over the phone.  No, you can’t, we never have and never will do a transaction like that.  Turns out manager no 1 who first dealt with old lady, felt obliged to phone head office and tell them about “the fraud in my shop, that I know about”.  Wake up dude, get the facts and then go running like a wet-nosed puppy with a floppy tail!

Then there was the man very politely (at first) telling me that I can take his daughters two phones and shove them where the sun have to been in a long, long, long time.  After sitting with him for two and a half hours we reached the conclusion that daughter number one does not like the phone and wants a new one and she wants the limit on her account lifted becasue she can’t make enought phone calls and there is nothing, actually, wrong with the phone.

Then there was the signage guys.  Cellular service provider contracted the repair of my signage to sub-contractor  number one, who felt that driving 150km to us is too far, so they sub-sub-contracted (does the word even exist?) it to the locals.  What a mistake!  First monkey number 1 asked me what is wrong with the sign?  Well, do you see any light shining from behind the lettering as it should, no, well then I guess that’s the problem.  So he leaves and comes back two hours later with re-inforcements: another monkey and two ladies, quite obviously restricted to office work on a normal day, in ski-pants and high-heels and enough make-up to cover the New York Fashion Week, all staring at the sign, asking me where it opens.  At this point I felt like being really bitchy, but OK, keep it together girl, you can do this.  I don’t know how it opens, if it is supposed to open, why it is not working or how to fix it.  They came to the conclusion that: 1 – they need to get a permit from Centre Management to work on the sign, 2 – they need to take the whole thing down to replace the ballist (this entails literally removing the roll-bolts from roof and taking it down completely), whereafter they can fix it.  Now, I don’t work in signage, never have and, God-willing, never will, but I know that you don’t need to take down the whole thing to fix it.  Anyhoo, they left and will be back next week “as it is a big job” and we will see how it all plays out.

OK, don’t know how long a post is supposed to be, but, in a nutshell that is what you can expect in days to come.  Hope you enjoy and visit soon!