Post by Effie Bennet on Nov 10, 2009 17:23:31 GMT -5
“Yes sir, I understand. I just don’t think they did. There’s no way we –no sir, I…yes sir, sorry for bothering you. Bye –sorry? Oh yes, you too, bye.”
Exasperated, Effie ran a hand through her hair in frustration before turning back to the multiple loads of boxes that were stacked higher than her waist. Someone, somewhere in the department they ordered their goods from, had royally screwed up; sending them over double what Effie had sent out to be ordered, she was now set with multiple tasks that could easily be avoided, if only her boss didn’t fail to see the problems. Instead, she was now stuck trying to find places for items that there was clearly no room for in the small store, and then filling out stupid amounts of stock sheets and other paperwork.
With an annoyed sigh, Effie set out to do her first task of stocking the shelves in an attempt to eliminate some of the boxes. Grabbing the first one and heaving it down the aisle to where the mates to its contents were placed, she started unloading, counting under her breath to keep track of the number she’d need to put on the stock sheet.
She continues to do this for a few (thankfully customerless) hours with the next boxes until there is no room left on the shelves.
“Break time,” Effie groans, standing up from her place next to a bottom shelf, and cracking her back with much satisfaction.
Exasperated, Effie ran a hand through her hair in frustration before turning back to the multiple loads of boxes that were stacked higher than her waist. Someone, somewhere in the department they ordered their goods from, had royally screwed up; sending them over double what Effie had sent out to be ordered, she was now set with multiple tasks that could easily be avoided, if only her boss didn’t fail to see the problems. Instead, she was now stuck trying to find places for items that there was clearly no room for in the small store, and then filling out stupid amounts of stock sheets and other paperwork.
With an annoyed sigh, Effie set out to do her first task of stocking the shelves in an attempt to eliminate some of the boxes. Grabbing the first one and heaving it down the aisle to where the mates to its contents were placed, she started unloading, counting under her breath to keep track of the number she’d need to put on the stock sheet.
She continues to do this for a few (thankfully customerless) hours with the next boxes until there is no room left on the shelves.
“Break time,” Effie groans, standing up from her place next to a bottom shelf, and cracking her back with much satisfaction.
