Our days have been occupied by kittens (Vesta of the FURR Roman Pride has been adopted and is now known as Paisley. I received a photo of Edie, formerly Fern/Fenrir of the Norse Pride and for a mere seven months old, she is enormous!), training the puppy (also enormous!), and working on the details of the publishing debut (definitely feels enormous!).
Cosmo and Edie
Ms. F. Bean Barker
Last night at work, at the old Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy Warehouse, I ended up assigned to QC. I was rather stocked when I QC’ed 28 fixes by first break, but rather disappointed when I only managed 103 by the end of the night.
This was a bad weekend for relationships. The sting of it all still lingers and today it got worse. But my lovely daughter— teenager #1– stopped at Wawa and used her own money to get me one of there new matcha lattes. Better than Dunkin’s and a good challenge to Starbucks.
I was assigned to QC again tonight and wondered if I would redeem myself. I QCed 21 by 5 pm but remained a tad distracted because of the contents of my head.
One of the overlords came over— the only person who has an obvious physical disability came over and asked me for a favor. Which is his way of saying they want to move me.
And they wanted to move me to pick. And he apologized explaining that with call outs they needed to shift people. I reminded him that I love chaos, it breaks up the monotony.
Now, Pick moved from the Gozer software platform to Star yesterday. (Who names these things?) They no longer track our number of fixes picked, focusing instead on items picked. The main complaint in the warehouse is that they have removed the timer.
I picked 499 items and walked 20,000 steps. And ate shrimp. And I don’t even like shrimp.
Stitch Fix has instituted observations for their workers and tonight at the Bizzy Hizzy I experienced my first one. It was supposed to be in pick, but I was moved to QC as my shift supervisor came looking for me.
She decided to come see me in QC. This was nerve-wracking experience as I really respect this supervisor.
After so many bad bosses, it’s hard to feel out my position in the warehouse.
In part, because the feedback has been so positive. I often wonder if I am still in the “honeymoon” phase of this warehouse job.
So my first observation, in a department I really don’t even like, happened about 10:30 pm on a Friday when I was already exhausted.
I’d been in pick all week— averaging 144 fixes a night with a couple nights almost hitting 152. The goal (DME or “daily minimum expectation) is 160. So I am consistently at 87.5%. I start every night strong, often hitting 72 or 80 before our mid-shift meal.
But by 9:30, I fall apart. The carts that normally take 20 minutes are now taking 25. And that makes a big difference. This is so frustrating.
I so love pick, and I want to stay in pick, and honestly, I don’t even mind when they move me to QC at the end of the night because I see the carts backing up in the garage and I think I would be more useful over there. And it keeps me from beating myself up too much about the numbers.
Last night I did 112 fixes before getting moved to QC at 10. I wasn’t going to surpass 144 with that number. But almost every cart I did was out in the far side of the warehouse— which meant 750 steps out and back just to reach the garage. A full shift in pick, at the pace I am moving now, gives me 25,000 steps in a night.
Then the software had be zigzagging in a strange pattern. That might be because large portions of the warehouse are unbinned (empty). Stitch Fix had a massive shipment of flat pack holders that they plan to install.
Plus on Monday, they will be switching our software and as of right now, no one is really sure how it will work.
What is hindering my performance?
Am I tired? It is Friday after all, and my weekday sleep patterns are erratic.
Is it the number of fixes in the far end of the warehouse?
Is it the emptiness of the warehouse?
Is it stamina and fortitude?
Do I always fall apart at the end of the night due to fatigue-induced lack of motor control caused by my cerebral palsy?
All of this is going through my head when this shift supervisor that I really respect turns up for my first observation.
In QC.
By the numbers, I was only at 69% DME in part because of performance anxiety. We discussed what she saw and then she emailed me the same feedback we discussed. That was a really nice touch. It’s often annoying that our superiors in the warehouse hierarchy email us communication as we are warehouse workers without time to find computers.
Granted with apps and what not we can do it on our phones, but that just feels like a lot of personal effort for a unskilled job.
But on days like this, it sure makes me feel like a person instead of one little piece in this big machine.
Here’s what really surprised me—-
I am good at folding clothes.
Yup, they said so. Officially. And apparently even though my job is brainless and feels like the work of an automaton, I have developed my own strategies that, according to this supervisor, have both efficiency and the client experience in mind.
I will share her exact words with you, “Angel’s folds are great! I can really tell she cares about her work and what her end product looks like to the client. Love how she recognizes the clothing she has in front of her and how she plans in her head how she will build her stack. She folds her clothes in the order of how she stacks them and stacks as she folds.”
Seems like common sense to me.
And to be fair, if you want to see the criticism, here it is, “By scanning all the items first and then taking the items out of bags, this will help to ensure that she scans all the items prior to folding and minimize the amount of rescans she may need to do. It will also serve to see if she’s missing something right away instead of spending time to unwrap and realize something is missing. I’d also recommend trying to do a fluid motion when scanning the box prior to putting it on the line. It will be a bit more ergonomic and create less touches of the scanner and the box.”
I sat down after lunch to spend some time with Nala the Goffin’s cockatoo and read more of book three of my Fashion and Fiends series, this one called Recovery.
Teenager #1 decided she wanted to go to her dad’s for the afternoon. I wanted to go get my $1 medium coffee at Dunkin. By the time we got organized we were leaving later than I would have liked. And then the dog pooped on the floor. And then the dog peed on the floor.
I decided this meant I needed coffee to survive the night. The line was ridiculous but I had already made the order via mobile so I was committed.
And then the teen forgot her keys. So I had to drop her off at her dad’s office instead of apartment.
Somehow I made it to the Bizzy Hizzy on time.
And I was assigned to pick. I hit 144 and walked about 25,000 steps in the Stitch Fix warehouse.
The big news yesterday was taking teenager #1 for her driving road test, which due to Covid is a swing around the parking lot with the testing official watching from the curb. She passed.
I ended up in pick again last night, but got moved to QC at 10:30 pm.
And now, with Zoom classes and homework done, the teenager has taken my car to run errands— mostly shopping for her pets.
And yes, she’s going to stop and fill up the car with gas and get coffee for mama.
I only got five hours sleep last night. My emotions were a mess, my body in pain, and I had a sinking suspicion some of my issues are menstrual cycle/hormone related since in addition to my S1 joint issues, I also feel all my cramps in my lower back. PMS week is supposed to start this weekend, but as a forty-something woman I think the party is starting early.
I treated the teens to iced coffee at Wawa. They have a $2 special going on right now and I gotta say I still don’t like Wawa’s iced coffee. I don’t like their flavors. The coffee tastes week. And they never put enough ice in, and I’m the woman that asks for less ice at Dunkin’.
I get to work at Stitch Fix’s Bizzy Hizzy. I see I am once again assigned to QC so I take some ibuprofen and head to my favorite table— Valley 1, line 1B, table 2B.
And after the first hour, the supervisor who also has a disability comes over.
“Angel,” he says, “would you do us a favor and move to pick?”
“Now you know I’m glad to say yes. When?”
I’m thinking after lunch. Nope. He says to go after I finish my cart— which is two fixes!
I only picked 120, and at 11:29 pm my Samsung Chromebook warned me it had 34 minutes left. It died 20 minutes later. Apparently it can’t do math. I only had two more items left to complete my cart, and one was one aisle away. We had to manually get the last items as you can’t restart a pick from the middle.
And I felt better doing all of this than I have all week. Even despite wearing rather impractical shoes.
I came home and took out F. Bean Barker (who I learned is half pitbull/half mastiff). The neighbor’s dog barked as she was mid squat and she refused to go to the bathroom, too afraid.
And then she had explosive, watery diarrhea in the dining room and downstairs bathroom. And we ran out of paper towels.
I don’t know what’s the better feeling— taking off your socks and shoes after being on your feet all night or removing your bra.
I’m in pain tonight, numerically probably only a six, but the discomfort is debilitating. That does quite make sense to me. I’ve hurt more but felt less uncomfortable.
It’s almost 1 a.m. My S1 joint has been giving me trouble all night so all of those muscles are on fire. I poured the last of the Pink Whitney vodka as I ponder my other aches and pains—my right knee, a pulsing pain in the ankle I broke six years ago. The angle I am sitting at right now hurts. But Fog is curled up against me and I don’t want to move.
But I did walk the dog. That felt good. Stretching all those sore parts.
The dog— her name is Freja but Teenager #1 wants to change in to Bean. I suggested F. Bean Barker. She’s doing well. Went to the bathroom outside for us today and less accidents in the house.
Speaking of accidents, I packed up the homemade ham broth and kept pouring long after the container was full. That made a mess.
Then I tried to fry some eggs and started a small grease fire. I extinguished it, but not before teen #1 yelled, “Mom? Is everything okay? I just saw flames everywhere.”
But back to the Bizzy Hizzy at Stitch Fix. I had a “talk back” meeting with some of my leaders. Again, explaining that QC hurts. Talk of doing 4 hours in QC and 4 hours in pick when they roll out split work centers.
And they want me to hit 130 QC fixes. That’s 3 minutes per fix. Tonight, between meetings and pain I only did 91. I did 104 last night. That is 3.63 minutes per fix. Tonight I ended around 3.8.
In better news, my MacBook Air came. Tomorrow I hopefully can do my local taxes (state and federal are done and filed) and work on Finding Hooyo, the Romance/War/Medical novel I would like to be the second book published by Parisian Phoenix Publishing. Manipulations, the first novel for our little imprint and the first novel of the paranormal/romance/chick lit Fashion and Fiends series should be in design now.
If you want to see me unbox the new Mac, the video is here: Unboxing
Today started with a groggy Angel that for the second day in a row got less than six hours sleep. I headed off to my amazing chiropractor, Nicole Jensen, to report that despite the grueling work week somehow I was not in pain.
And she indeed found that my body was moving well and that my main issue was stiffness in my mid-to-upper spine consistent with all the snow shoveling needed in the last few weeks. She also asked about my neck as I store all my stress in my neck and shoulders.
After getting a great adjustment and convincing a staff member there that her mother did not want a large bird that talks, I came home and unsuccessfully tried to nap. One of my favorite Sarah’s convinced me to get another Dunkin Cold Foam Cold Brew which I review in this YouTube video: Vanilla Cold Brew with Cold Foam
I texted her to thank her for the advice as it was dead on. And somehow I QCed 105– yes one hundred and five— fixes which is more than the required metric of 104. I finally did it. A mere three-plus hours before the full moon.
It was a successful night at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy.
Teenager #1 waited up as a bonding exercise before the full moon. Today in addition to chores and school work, she replaced the screen in her bedroom window and embroidered her face masks for work.
Here are some other contemplations and updates at 2:15 a.m.:
I am itching to write fiction again. My friend Gayle has agreed to be my book designer should I decide to publish my books. Gayle and I once had the dream of our own publishing imprint, Parisian Phoenix Publishing.
My mortgage refinance is scheduled to close next Saturday. The refi will save me $300 a month, pay off my car, and leave me with several thousand extra dollars. I am dropping from 3.25 to 2.85% interest and adding five years into my mortgage. But it will also drop my actual mortgage to be less than the current 50% of my net pay. My hope is that when things “look better,” I can pay down the principal.
So the extra money— do I:
Buy myself a computer and put the rest in savings. It’s been about 3 years since I had a computer and I’m an Apple girl so it’s an investment. Adding the rest to savings would give me about 5-6 months income in the bank as an emergency fund.
Put it all in savings to see what happens in the economy next.
Use it to buy the computer and pay teenager #1’s car insurance should she pass her exam March 9. The bill will be $1500 for 6 months. Mine is $488.
Use it and other savings I have to pay down $5,000 on the new loan’s principal.
We were supposed to get one to three inches of snow.
This is not three inches
I’m 90% sure Mama Periwinkle hatched another baby. Video: Sound of baby budgie. Anyone want a parakeet?
I managed to get to work on time, and ended up in QC again. QC hurts. But I didn’t take any meds and decided to see how it goes. Hit 24 by first break, pain level was only a 2. By meal, the pain was at 4 and I was slowing down. By last break, I was at 69 and it should have been 78.
One of my superiors came over after that break and said I was doing great and that my efforts and progress were not unnoticed. I spoke honestly, and this particular person also has a disability that hinders his mobility. And he said it might be possible to split my shift between QC and pick. That would be amazing.
By the end of the night, I hit the same number I did last week— 91— but I almost broke under four minutes per fix. And I got a cool mask….
So now my pain is about a six. Last week I felt really bad after hitting 91, my body hurt.
The snow started later than anticipated and my day, my bedtime, started with our weekly garbage pick-up happening at 2:30 a.m. I guess they were trying to get ahead of the storm.
And after “picking” last night, my pain and my mood improved drastically. Though I did binge on junk food again. Sigh.
But these last few months— between Covid and the new job— have really made me realize how much pain changes you.
But today… work is closed due to snow. But Joan texted that her Fix came and we opened it together on Zoom.
Photo by Joan
The teens did the shoveling, and we had some omelettes for brunch. Then this afternoon we filmed a video on our silly Valentine’s treats. The impetus of the video was some rose soda I purchased at Lidl. Our reactions: Video of Valentine’s Treats
First we played some Mille Bornes, the car-themed card game.
Once I arrived at the Bizzy Hizzy, I realized I had forgotten to wear red for “red day,” but they gave us all red masks and iced heart sugar cookies. That brought me some joy. As did my lunch, my attempt at Cajun seared scallops.
I started my night in QC, where my performance slipped because despite taking two naproxen sodium my pain level was going from 5 to 7. By 9 pm, I had only QC’ed about 52. But then at 9:15, I got moved to pick direct! It felt amazing to zoom through the warehouse and even though the naproxen sodium had worn off, my pain had dropped to a two or a three.
Teenager #1 texted that she had her uniform and she was waiting tables by herself and she made $28 in tips. I love seeing her in this new role.
And my friend who adopted Fenrir/Fern of the Norse Pride (now Edie) sent me this picture of her:
She looks so majestic. I am assured that she is still naughty.
By the end of the night, I picked 48 fixes and walked about 12,000 steps.
A friend texted to check in when I really needed to hear a familiar voice (thank you, Bill).
Another friend texted me the word “ramfeezled,” to be exhausted from working too much. (Thank you, Joan.)
And then I got home, and found the best surprise ever. Now, every night teenager #1 comes to hang out with Nala. While she is here, she makes my bed.
Tonight I found this…
She bought me clearance Valentine’s chocolate from the Dollar Tree. That’s my girl— frugal impresses me just as much as the thought.
Cupcakes seem to be a recurring theme in my life right now, but that’s okay since Mercury is still in retrograde and my emotions are a little wonky.
Apparently Sunday was not only Valentine’s Day but also Stitch Fix’s 10th anniversary. Since we had a paid holiday yesterday, we got cupcakes today.
As discussed with my supervisor last week, I returned to QC today in hopes of meeting the goal of 104 so I can get my parole and head back to pick.
I hustled and focused and didn’t even look up from my clothes.
By first break, I QC’ed 24.
My supervisor stopped by and commented on my improved numbers. And we discussed my adult days of the week socks— I had chosen “Monday mood” over “Taco Tuesday.” She asked if I was going to wear taco socks tomorrow and I said no, I’m going with hump day.
She asked if they had a camel. I said they do.
By final break I was slowing down.
And by the end of my shift I hit a new high for me— 91— but despite naproxen sodium and ibuprofen I was hurting. Probably around a 5.
Angel Ackerman 