Meh.

I downloaded the livejournal client for my laptop. I held off all this time because I thought it would take forever with 56k but it took like five minutes. *sigh* Oh well.

Work is dull. Well maybe not dull... Today, some old woman put a five pound bag of sugar in her cart, it must of been when she first came into the store. The bag had a hole in it. There was sugar everywhere. Everywhere. The lady at the meat counter noticed the leak and told me afterwards there was maybe a cup and a half of sugar left. Me and a couple other clerks spent three or five hours sweeping sugar, which didn't actually work, it just spread it really thin making it more slippery to walk on, and then had to mop the whole store, which, actually, made sort of a syrup. Then the whole store was sticky. So we had to mop the whole store. Well, actually sticky things never go away when you mop them just once, so we mopped it twice. (This is twice after the initial stickifying mopping which makes a total of three). After that it was still sticky. We started mopping it a third (fourth total) time but then unanimously agreed to "fuck it." For those of you concerned, the store should be non sticky again on Monday morning, after the real floor cleaning crew comes along.
Also, right as I was getting off my manager asked Randy (the slow {by slow I mean special} clerk) to give him the keys back. Of course Randy had slid the keys under the safe room door, where the managers usually go when they're not elsewhere helping a customer or some such. Now the safe room is called the safe room because it has a big safe in it and thats where all the money is kept and it automatically locks of course when you close the door, and requires keys to open it. Coincidentally, those keys had been slid under the door. I thought it was amusing... Apparently the managers has left the keys in there before because he trudged to the back, grabbed a ladder, and prepared to climb through the ceiling to get into the room. No such thing ensued as the keys were retrieved by reaching under the door.
In other news, there was a very short man who yelled very loudly at his son for no apparently good reason, and then punished him by making him hold his hands above his head for a long period of time. This angered me greatly, though I'm not sure why, and I very nearly slipped and said "Go fuck yourself," rather than "Have a great day."

Edit: If I made the mopping sound miserable, I apologise for the negativity, because mopping is actually not that bad compared to a lot of other things I could be doing, like bagging which would inevitably include carryouts, meaning lifting lots of things in 90° weather while wearing black slacks and two shirts, on of which is close fitting and 6% spandex. *suffocate* Mopping wasn't bad at all.