San Francisco Pizarro Is All In

I. The Right Stuff

My arm chair is moved, and I turned in my old house key:
I am all in my new place! (if not all unpacked).

On the ottoman is a present from my workplace--a Stanley tool bag stuffed full of tools for apartment living and doll-sized theater productions, everything from nails to a small Dremel rotary saw.

My workplace isn't the sort that celebrates birthdays or sends get-well cards. Not at all. So I was surprised to get any gift.
And such a nice one, too.

Big Boss gave permission for it to be a gift from the store, and different coworkers found donated tools for it, but it was mostly put together by Jesse, the keeper of the tool room. I've let him know that his fluency with an electric drill impressed me. (There's one in the bag, with different bits.)

The other day in the break room, people were swapping last names. I said most of us probably don't know each others'.
Jesse walked in, and I asked him if he knew mine.

"Um... Pizarro?" he said.

"Close!" I said, "You got the P and a Z".

Pizarro! I love it.
Mr Furniture calls me San Francisco. That could be my new, real name:
San Francisco Pizarro.

II. The Wrong Stuff

The Marzipan, aka Top Kid, is back!
She hated the military style school, not surprisingly.
"Why do I keep thinking I can do group things?" she said.

Example: One student had smuggled a Cuppa Noodles into the dorms, where food is not allowed.
As punishment, the entire cohort had to go outside and do push-ups while the instructor yelled, "Fuck you and your Cuppa Noodles!"

Marz laughed telling me this, and I laughed to hear it, but there was a lot of such yelling, she said, and months more of it coming up.

When she told the instructor that she was leaving, she said,
"You said you could guarantee that someone would drop out in the first week. I'm that someone."

And he said, "I thought it might be you, Haney."

LOL. I'm sure she semaphored her misery quite clearly.

The instructor told her he'd thought about taking her aside and asking her if she wanted to be there but decided to let her figure it out for herself.
Smart!
It's good, I think, to let situations play out in their own time.

She left on a shuttle full of working mariners who'd come back to upgrade to another rank. They told her she'd made a good decision and told her horror stories about what they've been through-- not allowed to get off the ship at ports so they couldn't quit, for instance.

They also told her how she could work for other shipping companies if she gets her Water Safety credentials.
She says she might like to try one ship cruise.
Whatever, I'm super proud of her trying stuff out. It's a big world out there, and for now...

Welcome home, Top Kid!