During the week I found out that even though I normally work Sundays, I'm being forced to have Easter Sunday off without pay, as (a) the store can't legally open that day, and (b) it's apparently not a 'stat' day. Odd, I thought. And not entirely correct either, it turns out.
As you can see
here, if I'm willing and able to work, but the store doesn't provide me with some for whatever reason (ie, the law), under common law I could be entitled to my normal rate of pay.
Normally, I'd just take the day off and enjoy it, but at the moment, it'd be nice to have the money, and I'm gonna damn well try and get it...
On a lighter note, here's this freakin' wierd dream I had this morning. You know how most dreams are kinda weird, but still pretty linear, in their own bizarre way? This one wasn't. At all.
So I'm in Tracs, this record store in Hamilton, and the person working there asks me if I can cover them while they take a slash. I'm like, sure, then realise I've never worked there before, I don't know where anything is, I don't even know the person now taking a slash. Someone asks for
Kid A, I can't find it, despite the fact this particular dream version of Tracs keeps all the CDs by each particular artist in one slip. Eventually the employee comes back, so I go back to looking for what I was looking for - shoes. In a record store.
I find the shoes I want, and take them up to the counter. The clerk takes them, then instructs me to go upstairs to collect them. Okay... I'm wondering, and head upstairs. Not just to the street level part, but up to the first floor, where all the shitty covers bands (and the Hollow Grinders) usually practise. Tracs have a little office up there, that looks like one of them bland little rooms with a queue, the kind where Monty Python characters go to hand in tax forms and do motor vehicle registrations. I wait in the queue, then eventually it's my turn at the counter. The clerk asks, 'have you checked Maria?' I'm like, what? 'Have you checked Maria?' they repeat.
For those who don't know,
MARIA is the name of the internet service thingee that tells electricity retailers and their call centre staff which particular retailer 'supplies' each property in the country. It's an acronym for something probably only Tariqa can remember. Quite often emails would fly around the call centre saying, 'get out of Maria!' cause only a certain number of people could be using it at once. But for reasons unknown to me, in my dream, I've forgotten what MARIA is. Odd.
Anyway, the woman behind the counter is getting really agitated, and a manager comes out. He asks me, 'why didn't you check Maria?!' I reply, who the fuck is Maria?!' and he gets even angrier, and brings out an even higher manager, who is carrying some silver boots, that look like they came right out of
Lost In Space or
Buck Rogers. These are NOT the shoes I chose to purchase, btw. He asks, 'are these the shoes you wanted to buy?' I'm like, no, I'm not a spaceman, I don't own a silver suit that a pair of silver boots would go with, so why would I buy a pair of silver fucking boots? He gets real agitated, and some people behind me chuckle... one woman leans over to me and says quietly, 'you know, someone in this line IS buying those boots, for whatever reason, they're probably pretty embarassed now.' I look around and say, 'I don't see any fucking astronauts here...' and storm out.
So I'm on the street, wondering who the hell Maria is, and I see this guy Joe C, that I went to tech with. He's running for the Hamilton East electorate, which strikes me as odd, as we're in Hamilton West, and for some reason Ward Street looks like Vulcan Lane (in Auckland). Anyway, he's dressed up all like one of them United States wannabe politicians, but instead of blue, red and white, he's dressed up in Hamilton East colours - which it turns out are purple and yellow ,in this particular reality at least. Then I notice there's a queue forming nearby, to a movie theatre. Next thing, a drunken Rob walks past, telling everyone the movie, 'SUCKS!' I'm really confused now, and wake up.
It certainly beats the dream I had before that, where I accidentally drooled on Tariqa, and she punched me into a ditch.