So now I'm alone, on my whole day off, and what do I do? I clean the refridgerator. And do the dishes, and sweep the kitchen and vacuum the living room. Hey, it needed to be done, and I had nothing better to do, so what the heck.
As the (lonely) day passed, I decided that I was gonna make my man an excellent dinner, as a peace offering for his working all day long. For whatever reason, I wanted to make chicken enchiladas. Let me tell you, for my first ever attempt at making them-they were EXCELLENT!! I was very proud of myself! : ) Ta da!!
. . .And looking fantastic and ready to eat!! And they were sooo good.
When Jake finally made it home (at 10:30 that night), I asked him if he wanted some enchiladas, and he asked "From where?" And very proudly I responded, "I made them!!" Long story short, when they were reheated for him, he devoured them and kept praising my good work. And he finished them off the next day. : )
Ok, my zombie movie set. The next morning (Sunday), I had to be at work at 6:30. Upon driving there, I noticed that our power was out in the entire complex. Our store had a few lights on, thanks to the generator, but overall it was pretty dark. So its dark, and pouring, check and check for the beginning plot of our zombie movie. As I'm running from my car to the store, I realize I obviously can't get in cuz our automatic doors are electric and therefore, won't open. So here I am, outside soaked and locked out, pounding on the doors trying to spark someone's attention to let me in. From out of nowhere, this bum woman that ALWAYS comes in and buys a 40oz like twice a day, and is ALWAYS lurking outside the store, mumbling to herself- steps out from behind the soda machine, really slowly. Like, creepy slowly. Weird lady talking to herself? CHECK! The zombie plot thickens.
So, now I'm freakin' out, I can barely see her, and she's just standing there, staring. I pound on the door harder. Finally, my saving grace opens the door, and I pour in, more freaked than I realized. Once inside, it gets creepier. There is no music, no lights, no customers, no noise. Period. Kinda laughing, cuz none of us know what to do, we try to go about our usual shift duties-albeit limited. As my shift progresses, and I'm moving around more, I realize how completely transformed the store is with no lights and no people. It felt like how I imagine a hospital with no patients would feel. Isles looked longer and menacing and merchandise was barely visable. I kept waiting for some wacko to jump out from behind the cereal or something. Just weird.
Anyway, because the electricity was out, that meant our ice box that houses all the bags of ice, and all out refridgeration and freezer units, were out too. So in a desperate attempt to salvage product, we brought most of the bags of (rapidly melting) ice, and packed them around meats, ice creams, dairy and frozen.
When the lights finally came back on, there was no longer a need for the ice bags to serve as impromptu coolers. So back to the ice box they go. All of them, we're talkin' like at least 50 bags of ice. 50 bags of melting, leaking, ice. Once the ice was put away, we had to go all around the store and mop up the trails of ice drip that we so desperately tried to avoid.
Only 4 hours, it was still a very eventful shift. It brought variety and fun to the day. And there were no zombies. : )
