Day Thirty

Yup folks, that’s right. We’ve been doing this for a month now.

First a few updates, the Shelbyville Road store here in Louisville got a last minute save when the landlord caved and agreed to work with Borders. A handful of others did as well. I’m not sure whether I think this is good news or bad. I mean, I’m glad those people still have their jobs. Except they aren’t in the clear yet. And I do know that not knowing is worse than knowing. I mean, that’s why not knowing when our last day is is so hard. I simply can’t make any kind of plans and working how I have been these last few weeks my days off are Sunday, which is rather limited in job-hunting usefulness (I can put a lot of application in, but it’s useless for interviews or street-level hunting) and Thursdays, which honestly have been filled with mundane tasks like laundry, grocery shopping, dentist appointments (and if things continue the way they are in Louisville–yard work.)

I know a lot of you know this already because many people have approached me in real life telling me they’ve been reading along, but some don’t know. My son is autistic and for the last ten years most of my “job” has been managing his needs. I guess I’ve come to depend on scheduling and routine almost as much as he does and not being able to make more than a week to week game plan until the inevitable is ruffling my feathers all on its own.

And speaking of which there were no “10 Days left” signs up when I went in today. The good news is that means the people getting benefits will now officially have them at least to the end of April. I’m not one of those people, but good for them. Any good news is welcome.

I spent the day, much of it anyway, clearing out Paperchase. The fixtures are sailing out sometime this week, and honestly organizing is my weakness. It was nice to get to do something other than ringing for a bit, especially something I like to do. Knowing that’s why I was tasked with it, and knowing that my GM covered my register while I worked are also little squishy moments. Plus my DH took me to lunch, so over all this is one of the best work days I’ve had in the last month.

I have been told that I’m over reacting to this situation, that it’s just a job and I was job hunting when I found it, I can find another. So I’ve tried to be more careful, because I really don’t want to drag down the people around me (not even those of you reading this). But a lot of what I’ve been talking about and bothered by my coworkers, and even many of you commenting or emailing, have agreed with. We’re all bothered by being cut off from what has been our business for years (together, at least). We’re all worried about our future. We’re all demoralized by watching the store disassembled up to torn apart, by dealing with the same few questions from customers, not to mention the pissy ones who tell us [whatever thing we can’t do for them, no matter how outrageous] is why we’re going out of business. We’re frustrated with the liquidator’s lack of information sharing and the “missives” from headquarters we are receiving that say Borders is spending a lot of money to prove we’re all stealing from them.

Furthermore all of us are tired, sore and many sleeping badly, not just from the constant work (be it packing and moving books, putting fixtures together or helping people carry them out, or just standing in one place for three hours until the line is gone) but also from the stress. It’s not just me, and I’m not just whining. We’re all experiencing physical side effects from all of this.

Am I overreacting? Well, yeah, maybe some. I am a writer, and one of the primary skills there is precise use of language. “Guys it sucks, these mean customers are coming in and taking everything and leaving huge messes” doesn’t quite resonate with people like “It feels like I’m dead only I have to sell all my stuff and clean out my house and embalm myself before I can actually lay down and rest.” Both are true, but the latter immediate puts people there, imagining how that really would feel.

But I also had a coworker tell me today they were surprised I’d feel like I was over blowing things, since I’m one of the most consistently cheerful and upbeat people they know. Insert more warm squishies here.

In short, I think that I’m accomplishing what I’ve set out to do with these blogs. That is, venting in a useful way, showing those who haven’t been there what it’s like and reaching out to the people who are there (or have been, or will be) to make sure they aren’t alone. Because you aren’t. And we aren’t over reacting. This is a depressing, demoralizing and even physically stressing situation.

But it will end (eventually) and when it does we’ll be free to find other paths, and I think, almost universally, we’ll find something better

P.S. It could be a lot worse. Whittier Daily News reports that a small town in California struck a deal with a landlord to help pay rental fees in order to get a Borders in their town. Their store is being closed and now the landlord can contractually get $33,932.91 a month from the city for 72 months until the contract is up and the space is available for a new tenant. On one hand it’s great to hear that a city valued having a bookstore so much. On the other this really, really sucks for tax payers and local book lovers.