The I-Thing knows all

The I-Thing:  It's everything you never knew you always wanted!  Did you know you can tell it what to do?  It's ridiculously addicting.  Baah Baah, sheep... go get your I-ThinK.  Thats right, it thinks for you.  It reapeats to you.  Absolutely astonishing.

On another note: The lotion is working, or so I think.  Perhaps I am smoking less and therefore washing less.  Perhaps.  On the other hand, the lotion could be working, and my hands could be healing based on the seven dollars I spent a couple days ago.  Who really knows?  What normal individual really cares?  As I was breaking down the breakfast setup today, my supervisor was helping.  I overheard her say, "Who keeps wrapping the butter pats?  They're already wrapped!"  At this point I was poking myself in the rib, laughing just a little. "Wait!  Which OCD person is wrapping the already individually pre-wrapped butters?!  I'll give you one guess: ME!"  Pretty funny when I can actually laugh at the whole thing.

I worked at Avalon last night, and though I don't really know how I feel about it and about the circumstances, I know it was nice.  I know I showed up and filled in for some need that was there.  As any server knows, filling waters and seating people is priceless, regardless of the flow. I didn't work for money, that wasn't the point.  I don't know if I was honestly interested in working for free to "help out," or if the simple thought of waiting at home for Ben that night was unbearable.  Either way, it was nice to feel some involvement.

Oh my gosh, if you ask the I-Thing what time it is, did you know it tells you?!  I should go to bed soon...

I know what you're thinking.  I wasn't involved, and am still not involved.  Well, please read the following, an excerpt from my e-mail, with names omitted, out of respect.

hey ma,

in my experience, glasses which are stacked always break.  Lack of space and storage is the number one reason plastic is used in place of glass.  I think what is needed is better organization/system of the "bussing" station.  (What is going to happen with the old lottery room?  That would make a great bussing station, and would free up room on the dining floor for two to three more tables.)

Also, with the review that came out, business is going to pick up.  With so and so gone, you need to hire people... Servers are very aware that hours are short at times, and college students don't mind a couple/few hours of work here and there.  It's going to be PACKED tonight with Karen Lovely, Ben is a little stressed, and so and so was the only one there when I dropped in at 4 today... six tables are easy for a strong server.... six maybe not so much for a "slower paced" honkey-dorey person... especially when that person is also bartending a full bar.  You don't want service to fail...

I offered Ben for me to come in and "back wait" for a couple hours, if needed, to help out.  His response was that it wouldn't work if you didn't want me there.  Just so you know, if it helps you and Ben, I'm available tonight... I can fill waters and clear plates and act as a liason... all without payroll...

I'm trying to be helpful, but I can't when I'm not sure of boundaries.  Let me know if you need me.

Ask Ben about the glasses, maybe I am missing something?  The glasses we use at Greenleaf are an efficient size, and don't take up too much space.  However, they cannot be stacked.  Pint glasses are expensive, and can only stack two high, if stacked at all....

Call me when you can

Thusly, I worked at the Avalon for the first time.  It was wonderful, actually... though, I'm not sure of exactly why.

I got my first "real" paycheck from Daniel's place last week.  It said $987.00.  Not bad for two week still in the shoulder season.  Still, it's going to get busier.  I wonder what will happen... will I actually supervise?  It's been a couple months, and my intention is always to do-more-be-more-be-the-best-person-there, as intimidating as that may be for others.

Anyhow, just an update.  As the I-Thing said, I have to go to bed... it's late.
Apple iPhone 4 Black Smartphone 16GB (AT&T)

Flick The Ants

I hate ants.  Little black displays of disgust crawling on every counter top in my house.  I find them on my shoes and occasionally crawling up my skin.  I shutter just to think of it.  They're everywhere right now.  I wish there was just a simple way to rid myself of them, but no matter how much I clean, they're still crawling across fucking everything.  Quite disgusting in my realm.

I was going pee earlier (yes, I do that), and one was crawling across the bathroom counter.  I reached out and flicked it as hard as I could.  (I can never bear to actually kill them, if you can believe that.)  To my dismay, it landed about six inches from it's starting point, and wasn't dead.  It just kept on moving, a little discombobulated, but staying the course.

I realized at that second, that my week was like the life of an ant living on my bathroom counter.  Flicked, but staying the course, going for the prize if you will.

Wednesday morning was crap.  I was opening Greenleaf, and actually (for the first time) left on time to clock in at just the right moment.  Cruising along Hwy 99, about a mile from my house, my car froze.  Well, it didn't freeze, it just quit working. (FLICK THE ANT!) I pulled along the side of the road (thank goodness there was a place to pull over to), and sat.  Thirty seconds later, I thought there must be a mistake.  I just bought this car.  I tried to crank the key, turn it over, and nothing.  Was I out of gas?  No, but it sure smelled like gasoline.

I pulled out my phone.  First call: Daniel, the bossman.  He said all was fine, not to worry, that work was under control.  Secretly, I knew he was judging me, wondering if my story were true, or if I was just running late.  I am just like Daniel, in a lot of ways.  Distrust without showing it is one of them.  I sat again for a few seconds, thinking of what to do.  I couldn't call Ben.  In our fight the night before, he had smashed up his phone.  Susan was either sleeping or at work, and with so little days off, I couldn't bother her if indeed she was sleeping.  Dave was unavailable, for unmentionable reasons.  My dad?  Well, he takes forever to do anything, so calling him would be a 10 am opening for the restaurant.  Hmmm.  I could walk home, get the other car.  That would take twenty minutes, at least.  Plus, I still have two children to drop off.  Call a cab?  I have no cash, and my car would be stuck on the side of the road.

I have to call Phil.  Phil is Ben's dad, we've met a few times.  I bought my car from him, as well as borrowed long-term a washer and dryer.  7:15 am, I'm sure, was too early to call.  But I did.  I also called Ben's sister to take the boys to school.  Twenty minutes saved is twenty minutes earned, right?  Phil arrived at the same time Tessa did.  When Phil got out of the car, he said, "Sure smells like gasoline."  He found the fuel line disconnected, fixed it, and I was off in two minutes.  I arrived at work two minutes before 8 am.

That afternoon, Garrett's teacher informed me that Garrett was having a hard time fitting in.  She was worried, and I said I would try to find out what was up.  In the car (which was still running, thank god!) on the way home, Garrett said he was being bullied.  He said kids were calling him "stupid".  He also, with tears in his eyes, said he was "starting to believe them."  (FLICK THE ANT!)

I went straight to mama bear mode.  My cub was in trouble.  I called the principal.

She said things like that didn't happen at Helman, and that she was sorry he was "being excluded" at recess.  She said she would have the councilor speak with him.  NO!  NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR ME!  I didn't say he needed council.  I didn't say it was solely exclusion.  I know he has social issues, and if it were exclusion alone, I might ask for help for Garrett adapting to the situation.  Susan, my son is a victim of bullying.  He is being "name called."  What is your protocol?  What is the protocol of the district?  I need to know your plan of action, or I will create one of my own.  I am nice, Susan, until given a reason not to be.  If your policies in place don't handle it, then I will."


Today, I went to Garrett's school, just to see what was happening at recess, see what he was doing.  He was sitting alone.  It wasn't two minutes later that I was approached by the Councilor of the school (FLICK THE ANT!).  Sure, I'm available to meet for ten minutes, no problem.

No, Garrett does not need council from the school district.  He does not need to be on an IEP.  I realize the school gets money for special needs kids, and I understand why you would push that.  However, I refuse to put a label on a child who is doing just fine.  His social and emotional issues will be dealt with out of the school system, thank you very much.  (At the point, I bet it was her that was FLICKING THAT FUCKING ANT!)

I got home to an e-mail from Garrett's teacher, explaining that he told her we lived in Talent, now.  I needed to fill out an "inter-district transfer," and if it were approved, Garrett could stay at Helman.  FLICK THE ANT!!!!!!!!!!!

Ben was home sick today, and I had to help a little at Avalon.  Just helping open, driving him there, etc.  I didn't want him to pull over puking on his way to unlock the door.  When I got there, the napkins (brand new company, nicely colored napkins) were all different on every table.  I couldn't help myself.  I unwrapped and re-rolled all of them.  FLICK THE ANT!  Is it really that difficult to tell the difference between cream colored (for the table) and white (for the bread baskets) napkins?  Even the ones that were rolled were rolled inside out, seams facing the customers.  I drew the line there though.  I didn't want to OCPD about the whole thing.

I've been like a flicked fucking ant all week long.  Discombulated, but I will sure as hell stay the course.  I just flicked the the last ant of the night.  Then I wrote.  I JUST FLICKED THE LAST FUCKING ANT OF THE NIGHT.  Tomorrow, I'm going to kill them all, then let whomever the fuck cares decide.

The Road To Nowhere... In Particular:

Written Last Night: circa 9pm.

Of all the fucking things I chose today, I chose to go out of my realm and do something I didn't want to do.  Of course, I should have said no, but I couldn't.  In my mind, the time-line wouldn't work out, and I would have time to kill... at least fifteen minutes of doing nothing.  I gave in, possibly because I wanted to see Ben, and maybe because I knew he had been drinking, and the real reason he wanted me to drive was because of that fact (though he would never admit to it). You'd think we could be honest enough to state the facts to each other, but I digress.  The fact is that I know him, and I know the real reason I should have driven, and I drove.  We always know the real reason behind our actions, he mine and I his.  We belong to each other.  I killed time buying books at the book store for the kids.  I spent time spending money, which is always a bad thing when in the position I stare at each day.

As we drove, I knew he loved me.  He spoke and I listened, as I have for the past day.  My tears always holding themselves back by a milisecond.  Our conversations last night were inevitably about Avalon.  He is the new GM, after all.  Our conversations in the car on the way to the Ashland were about Avalon.  In fact, the only thing we spoke about before I left for work this morning was the Avalon.  At Susan's house, for the ten minutes I was there, it was Avalon.  Sure, we made small talk about books for kids, probably because I had just gone to the book store.  She did, at one point, ask how I was and I said, "I'm fine.  Just tired."  I said that trying not to burst into rage and a full display of tears. Twenty four hours of Avalon talk, and I don't work there.  I'm not involved.  I vowed to focus on me this week.  

It took every inch of me to not break into a full crying rampage.  I really don't want to have a massive melt-down or episode simply because things are changing, because I'm uncomfortable.  I know it's inevitable.  I recognize the danger, or the "warning signs", if you will.  That has got to be a step on the road to recovery, right?

Real Time:

Warning signs are real.  Whatever it is that makes me flip to the other side, it happened again.  However, I could feel it coming.  After a day of tears and high running emotion, Ben came home.  I held it together, tried to stay aloof and not let into the fact I was dying inside.  Overall, it didn't work.  Ben knew something was wrong, and I finally tried to explain myself to him.

As we were lying in bed, I explained clearly my thoughts (or thought I did) about his workload and the worry I have that it will be too much.  Somewhere along the way, I lost him and hurt his feelings.  Personal attacks on both our ends ensued, and he slept in the office again.  This time, I feel we were both at fault.  We both said mean things to each other, things which should never be uttered.  We attacked each other in the place it hurt us the most.  We exploited our own insecurites and threw them directly into the other person's face.  

With all this crying and these feelings of desperation, I begin to wonder: Depression?  Hmmm.  I'm going to say "no" here; though if it is, it's mild.  I think the tears come from realization and anxiety.  The realization is that I'm walking the road to nowhere, and that makes me anxious.  And it fucking sucks.

In an indirect response to a previous comment about some men stepping up to the challenge, I reply:

I'm a single parent, yes.  Do I want to be?  No, of course not.  Do my boys deserve to not have a father figure?  Yes, of course they do.  They are great kids, and they deserve everything.  Am I selling myself short by accepting that "the love of my life" is not willing to step in as a parental figure? Quite possibly by some viewpoints.  However, if a person is doing the best they can, who am I to expect more from them?  Do your best, and that's all you can do, right?  If what we do works for us, and we live a life of love and respect for each other (which we strive for each day), then what more should I ask for?

Today, I am walking and realizing the road to nowhere.  Will there be a career advancement for me?  Will there be a father figure for my children?  Will there be an honest down to the paperwork marriage in my future?  What do I strive for, and what will it take to get there?  Have I sold myself out, for the sake of staying afloat and being content?  Have I done the BEST for myself, and for my children and for  my family? 

Have I been walking the road to nowhere?  I guess it's all in eyes of the beholder.