...and We're Back

Greetings, world. I apologize for the 12 day drought of posting. The computer here at D-Focus broke and has only now been (mostly) repaired and internet-ready.

What goings-on have you missed during these last twelve days, you ask? Here is the shortlist:
-New job
-Parents visited
-Care package mania
-"Blazing Fury" and the Unbirthday Party
-an insane amount of learning and growing

New Job
My job situation has finally been resolved. I bid farewell to the Grandstand and the wonderful people it employed, but not before a great last day, complete with cake! They got me cake! My heart melted. The next day I went through new training to become...

...a cashier. Sound familiar? The only major difference in my new job is the department. I have left the world of foods and have entered the glamorous world of merchandise. I now use a slightly different cash register, which I rarely get to spend time at.

I now work at the Emporium, the gigantic, premier store that every guest must exit through when leaving (undisclosed amusement park named after allegedly incognito country music legend; more to come on this matter). I get to wear classy black pants, a snazzy white shirt, and, best of all, a stunning black vest. My wardrobe is impeccable. I look like I am ready for a high-society box social every time I go to work...that is, until I pass a guest with a t-shirt proclaiming her to be a "garage sale goddess."

I expected to work on a cash register frequently in my new job, but thus far that has not been the case. My days have consisted of running around the floor taking care of seemingly miniscule tasks for eight-and-a-half hour stretches, minus a lunch break. My tasks can be anything from restocking hat/shirt combos to fetching Kettle Corn from a stand across the park. I have come to love these corn-gathering missions, or field trips as I've taken to calling them; I enjoy leaving the store and walking around the park. I have found that when one wears a classy black vest, one is asked 200% more questions by guests around the park. High-society, I'm telling you.

The greatest part of my job has to do with a sweet-smelling island in the middle of the jungle that is the main floor. Within this island resides my newest nectar of life - fifteen varieties of sweet, sweet fudge. On my second day of working the Emporium, the fudge ladies informed me that I could come back whenever I liked to retrieve a sample of fudge. I have taken the invitation rather liberally; I have since tried ten flavors of fudge, and I make frequent pit stops throughout the day. 'Tis a wonderful thing.

In commemoration of my newfound love, I shall describe each workday using a different flavor of fudge. For instance, if I have a day full of pleasant surprises and joy, that day would be a "Dolly's Favorite" day. If instead I go to work, get kicked in the shins by a small child, lose my wallet, and spontaneously combust, that would fall under the category of a... well, I don't really know. Every flavor I've tried so far has been acceptable at worst.

Here is my favorite way to entertain myself on the job. There are two (2) music kiosks strategically located in the store. And by "strategically located," I mean that they are way too close to each other with no obvious reason for their placement. Anyway, whenever I pass one of these music kiosks I press button 26 twice to play "I like to Move It, Move It," a rousing techno/island dance mix that I can't help but dance to. To put this habit into perspective, I typically pass by a kiosk fifty times a day. That equals fifty plays of "I Like to Move It, Move It" on a daily basis, although it only plays 15 seconds of the song. I try to be discreet about it; I'm curious as to when my co-workers will catch on. In the meantime, I will continue to move it, move it.

More to come...