Sainsbury's

I went along for the first of three inductions at 5pm yesterday. I really enjoyed it actually. But the other 3 new employees were two 17 year old boys and a 17 year girl, and they were petrified, they didn't say a word, which was the only thing I felt uncomfortable with, cos I don't shut up. I either came across as particularly friendly, or they will be talking about me as being a complete looney. I don't care, I cannot stand long periods of silence. They were too shy to answer questions, I just gave up answering int he end cos I felt like I was coming across as a know it all, taking all the glory, I gave them a chance, but after about 10 seconds of silence I couldn't stand it, the answer just had to come out. When the trainer left the room for various reasons, to get our wonderful sexy uniforms, they just sat there, chewing nails, playing with bits of nothing on their clothes, so I just talked, and talked, and talked. I know where they live, what their parents do, what they are doing now, what they wanna do when they leave education, how many brothers and sisters they have blah de blah de blah. I hope they don't think I'm a mad woman.

We were asked to put down on a post it note how we were feeling at that moment, they were writing things like anxious, nervous, worried, so there were three post it notes full of anxieties, and then there was mine - excited, raring to go and bloody knackered.

We had four hours of training dvds - yawn - policies, priorities, standards, beliefs, roles, rules and regulations, steps, history, yawn yawn, twas all so boring. Cut out the crap and put me on the deli, I wanna cut some meat, I wanna feel some tandoori between my fingers.

We got another 4 hours this evening - yawn - and I'm on 9 til 5 tomorrow, with someone who is known as scary Mary. We have been warned she is very strict in her methods, takes no crap, the kids look terrified, I'm like bring it on ....

I have the uniform and it is vulgar, no, I mean really vulgar. The blouse I can cope with, the trilby even looks kinda ok, cos for the moment it's black (changing to luminous orange next year) but the trousers, oh my god the trousers, they are the kind of trousers your 90 year old granny would wear. They are the most unflattering pieces of low quality rubbish. They are thinner than paper, high waisted, and the backside of them, hell, well put it this way, the tailoring of the bum finishes somewhere at the back of your knees. So I have combated this by grabbing the largest fleece there, which should hide most of the backside. I know it's not a fashion show, but jeez, whoever designed these must have been drunk at the time, gross gross gross.

I also have a pair of free saftey boots, the kids all turned their noses up at them, but I'll take anything if it's going for free, gimmee gimmee gimmee, i think they're great, and they prolly cost a small fortune. Big chunky walking boots, great for walking the dog, if I had one. I'll be the one saying 'I told you so' when one of them drops a knife or something and it goes straight through one of their dainty shoes. It does happen, I have inside info remember.

I did have to bite my tongue, being in the know, and knowing how they treat their staff, I found a lot of the stuff hypocritical, I so wanted to pipe up and say 'what a load of ole rubbish' but I didn't, I was very good, I just smiled to myself. She really painted Sainsbury's as a lovely lovely place to work with everyone hugging, kissing and dancing around the aisles. I know better don't I, they have no respect for their staff, they are just robots, there to do a job and nothing else. At least I have no rose tint on my spectacles.

But saying that I am still enthusiastic to get started, I can handle attitude, I had two sons, I doubt I'll get any of the grief Martin has to contend with, and I am hoping that as people start to respect me they will maybe start to respect Martin too, or at least back off a bit, or they have me to deal with, eh!

I had major row with car park attendant man yesterday, I wanted to thump him. I put hour in Iceland's car park machine, I got held up in bank so didn't have time to do Icelands shop on the way back, so this bloke waited for me to put another pound in the machine and then proceeded to tell me I couldn't do that, one hour means one hour, if i didn't move the car in 3 minutes I would get fined £60. So I demanded my pound back. He was a stubborn miserable awful awful man, I let rip, I really did. There was nothing at all on the sign to say 'no return' I had the valid ticket for the next hour in my hand, but he said 'no, if you don't move it £60 fine. I demanded his name, three times, but he wouldn't give it. So I storms in to Icelands, yes stormed, and I said to the cashiers, what is that bloke's name, I am going to take this further, I explained what happened and told them they have just lost out on £100 worth of business because of him, and I would be unlikely to return (I will though, but don't tell them). One of the women was livid, she asked me to go to the manager with her to get it sorted, but I didn't have time. So I think he might be in a bit of trouble. I hope so. I flippin hate hate arrogant people, he just would not look me in the eye, and I hate that too. In my opinion - has small willy, must overdo the authority to compensate. Bet if Keith had been with me, 6ft 4 brick s**t house keith, he would not have uttered a word.

Anyways, best get on, have to get Jack to school, start a ton of transcript work, and get the house a bit neat, mother in law is back from holiday today so will no doubt be graced with her presence for a few hours this afternoon.

Back soon x