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Thursday, June 26, 2008

Children biting at my ankles

Money. It's how the world keeps score. Fuck that.

I work two jobs just to support myself, and ex-wives who rely on me instead of getting a second job. So, I basically work so they don't have to. Am I happy about that?

Not in the least. Do I make a lot of money? Hardly any at all. With the economy blowing harder than Courtney Love trying to get out of re-hab, it seems to be almost futile.

Time off.?None. Days I only work one job?

I fill time by going to meetings of alcoholics anonymous -for awhile, until I thought something different- doing laundry, shopping for what little groceries I can afford. Thank God I don't need much.

Other days it's work 8-10 hours, rush home, change clothes and work 6-8 more. Then rush home, a little television, something to eat, night-time medication and bed. Then blam! Up again at 6, sometimes earlier. No wonder I'm pissy.

But having whined about it all, it could be worse, has been worse. So I suppose I'm grateful for the ability to work. That's not to say I couldn't use a nap.

Hold me while I isolate...

I need sleep. It is way too early to deal with others.

I got up too late to make coffee at home, so I'm settling for Starbucks. Venti Americano with an extra room. That ought to work. Went to a meeting last night before going home. Any day I do that, I consider my day a success.

Today and tomorrow however, no time. Two jobs. Those are the days that test me. Without them I wouldn't be able to pay child support, or eat, or put gas in my car. So it's better than none. Because I've been there, and that's no fun at all. Being willing to take something beneath my skill level and have someone judge whether or not you would be a good fit for thier employee's. (Which means 'is he likely to mow us down in the breakroom?')

When did this tactic start? The employment 'play date'?.

Come spend the day with us and see if you like us and...giggle...if we like you. What in the blue fuck is that about? Either give me the job or don't. We're not having cookies and nap time, it's a job. More than likely one that I will loathe and bemoan ever starting and I will fantasize about walking the fuck up out of here as soon as I can, on to bigger and better as it were, and yes, what's that? I'm not (insert corporate concept here) material? Something about my attitude? Blow me.

And for the record, the people who have seniority and think they they are God's gift to table waiting? Especially the blue eye-shadow wearing pigs. Blow me too. You ain't nothing but an indoor carhop, one lay down away from being an actual whore.

No, I don't enjoy waiting tables, hell, I don't enjoy working at all, but it pays the rent...sometimes.

We're not curing cancer here. Its a paycheck. I deliver pre-portioned food to your table, kiss your ass and hope to god you leave me a tip big enough to make a difference in my day. That 2 dollars you and your co-worker left so generously on that 20 dollar tab does absolutley nothing to further my financial situation.

And no, you can't order everything on the side, with extra ranch dressing, but all on the side, and no this and none of that and two skips and a flip it's a fucking salad lady! WAAAGH!

I don't play well with others...

My new disclaimer...yeah I know.

Okay, the old disclaimer was tired. The ideas were outdated and keeping me stuck in a place I don't want to be now for something more refreshing.

I have recently changed my views regarding women. Seems I had some issues with the fairer sex due to past pain and self- centered fear. (Yes...duh applies.)

I'm done with that.

Being in recovery has helped me change my entire life, perceptions and attitudes. I cannot change my history but I can change my today and my future.

I recently realized that the women I know in recovery are some of the strongest, bravest, most gentle and kind teachers I have ever had. You exemplify integrity and spiritual growth, and I hope you know who you are.

Some may know of my past marital and relationship history and been a participant in them as well. It's past and that's where it the past.

I own my part in those failures but claim no more responsibility in any misery you may be experiencing. I am sorry, but it's time to get off the cross. We need the wood.

Thank you all...