I think I feel too much...

When I start a new job (as a waitress, that happens fairly frequently, it isn't exactly a career known for longevity) I know within a week whether I love it or not. If I don't, frankly, I move on - life is too short to work at a place where I'm miserable - there are tables in every restaurant, and I can find a restaurant where I can be happy. With that said, once I find a place, I tend to be a long timer. I take pleasure in my job, as crazy as that may sound. I also take pride in it. I am a loyal conscientious employee and I work at places where I can CARE about my job, my customers, and my co-workers. And I'm not afraid to tell you, I'm good at what I do. Damn good. As in, I run circles around my co-workers.

I am also happy to help them, I'll get drinks, help carry their food out, whatever they need. And at the end of the night, I'm usually the last one to leave because I do a run through and make sure everything is done. I tend to get the reputation as the one to call when ever a shift needs to be covered too. Oh, someone called out last minute? Call Erin, she'll come in with no notice! And don't take this all the wrong way either - I do all of this without resentment or expectation of special treatment.

But god damn, ya know, EQUAL treatment would be nice. Why do the catty bitches who don't help anyone, call out all the time, and want to leave early (without doing their sidework) get fucking special treatment????

Well, after being a waitress for 18 years, after always having the same work ethic, I learned a lesson tonight:

the lazy, ill-tempered, entitled people get special treatment while those of us that bust our fucking asses get the shit end of the stick. I need to do my job, only my job, stop being nice, helpful, conscientious, loyal, friendly, and for gods sake, STOP CARING.

I'm sick of being taken advantage of, taken for granted, and being treated like I am less-than. Fuck that. 10 months on this job, and yep, the bitches have managed to break me.

should this become my workout blog?

So I've joined the gym. Yeah, I know, it sounds ridiculous, but it isn't a joke, so stop laughing, OK? Really, stop now.

I have been overly thin all my life. I weighed 98 pounds (unless I was pregnant) until 2005. Recently I've been up to a whopping 112-114. Trust me, I am not upset about the gain, I'm upset about how that 15 pounds landed.

We went to the beach in June, I wore, as usual, a bikini. Why not!? I only weigh 114! We had just gotten a Cannon Rebel XTi and some cool lenses, so there were a LOT of pictures taken of this particular beach trip. Several of those pictures (well, it seemed like several hundred of those pictures) were of me, in a bikini. You just can't deny the truth when you're faced with pictures... hi-res digital images of the rounded-shoulders, the soft, mushy body, the sagging rump... the body of a *gasp* nearly 40 year old woman who has never worked out, eaten well, or thought much about health in general.

The lightbulb came on: Oh my god, I don't LOOK on the outside like I feel (like a 25 yr old) on the INSIDE.

Meanwhile, Scott has been complaining about wanting to join a gym, lose some weight, and get in shape. Sadly, the way we work, going to a gym during any normal hours is simply not an option. Then we found Snap Fitness. Open 24/7, you get a keycard and can go any time you want. BINGO!

We joined this past Saturday, for opposite reasons really. I need to gain weight, tone up, add muscle mass, and strengthen my core. Scott wants to lose weight and get more fit. But we go together now, 7 days a week, and cheer each other on, hold each other accountable, and yeah, he's teaching me wtf I'm doing on all these machines. But we're loving it - I never expected to love it (he's always loved working out, me... yeah, too much like work I thought).

So in 4 days, he's lost 2 pounds, and I found them! I've gained 2 pounds of muscle ALREADY!? Awesomeness. Didn't expect such immediate results! Score one for instant gratification! And I feeel gooood! Well, now that the soreness is subsiding...

Yup, it's one of those days - you know the type: where you let the day get away from you without actually doing any of those things you aspired to do when you opened your eyes upon waking. I'm having more and more of them lately. I work so damned much that when I get a day off (or like today, when I only work one shift instead of all day) I just don't have it in me to DO anything. Sure the weekend at the beach was great, but it was seriously just too short. And anyone with kids knows vacations are more stress than relaxation when you have the kids with you, full of excitement, wanting to do everything, and end up over-tired and out of their own element in a strange bed...

Yeah, I think somehow I'm bitching that I have just returned from vacation, and half a half day off today. Man, only me.

LOL, think I'll go clean the kitchen now.

whiney much?

I have a headache, and heartburn. I need a day off OTHER THAN Sundays (we're closed Sundays so I get that day off) because one day is NOT enough time to clean house, do grocery shopping, any errands that need to be done, spend time with the family AND actually relax for a change. There are too damn many people/animals dependent on me, there are too damn many people in my house - most of which don't clean up after themselves or contribute a fucking thing into the household, financially or physically. My husband and I work constantly, and not only do we have little or nothing to show for it, we never get to spend time together, and we're both totally stressed out and MISERABLE.

The worst part is knowing that *I RAISED THESE KIDS* how did they turn out like this? Immature, irresponsible, lazy, and entitled. WTF?

wowzers

looks like my background pics have been deleted and I'll need to update my layout tomorrow huh? Sorry guys!

what happened to my online job at that cool good-will movement about giving? (this post is so damn LONG!)

I was pretty involved in the giving movement at a particular good-will site for, well... almost 2 years. Originally I was just a member, then a volunteer who helped moderate the site, and eventually the founder asked me to become the community manager, and put me on the payroll. That position actually spun off into a Virtual Assistant position, and it also netted me other clients, for whom I filled various roles. It was pretty lucrative for a while, but in the back of my mind, I knew that all of my other online work was a spin off of (and somewhat dependent on) my involvement with the site and its founder.

That was cool, the site founder and I became pretty damn close, and the movement was one I believed in whole-heartedly, and practiced daily without fail. It worked - not just for me but for, well, roughly 11,000 people now. Never once did my faith in the philosophy ever waver.

But in the course of my involvement 'behind the scenes' I became uncomfortable. Seemed to me that profiting from it tainted the base concept, and twisted my motivation for being/remaining involved. I was doing things that (while not at all illegal or dishonest) made my inner voice scream, "This is all wrong!"

I was doing it wrong. The movement is totally legit, but my involvement became more and more about monetary gain. Don't get me wrong, whenever you give, you WILL receive, but I don't believe that you should give *just to* receive, and I was. I was remaining involved so I'd keep receiving that monthly pay check. I remained involved because I felt that if I was no longer at/with the site, I'd lose my other clients, and an entire line of income. And it was the biggest part of my income for many many months, hell, for a while it was my ONLY income. But my income relied on doing things I wasn't comfortable doing. Things I didn't *actually* know how to do, or... things that for reasons too complicated to explain here, just weren't me, and didn't fit into my personal philosophy. Things that, like I said, made me feel like my motivation was twisted, made me feel greedy, which flew in the face of my original reason for becoming involved.

I stayed emotionally drained, stressed out, anxious. It just didn't feel good anymore, and I had to weigh my prospects. Was it worth losing $1000+ a month or so (when you add up all the income I was receiving due to my continued involvement) to stay true to my self and my beliefs as to what was right for me personally.

Yes. Yes it was. Being true to myself and following my own heart about what was right for me is worth more than any amount of money. So I quit.

Don't get me wrong, it was hard. H-A-R-D!!! I was shooting myself (and possibly my family too) in the foot financially in the big picture, as well as walking away from someone I loved dearly. But I *had to* walk away, because she had her own interests to look out for, and despite how much we cared about each other and the cause, we just weren't on the same page anymore - and her personality is just stronger than mine, and I knew she'd talk me into staying, or coming back again.

I had to cut the strings and walk away... mostly without so much as an explanation.

But here's the thing. I miss the movement. I walked away and STOPPED PRACTICING THE PHILOSOPHY. So not fair - the movement is WONDERFUL, and it brought SO MUCH joy and gratitude into my life. It improved my attitude, my outlook on life. It made me a happier person with a more fulfilled spirit.

So I'm no longer involved with the actual official site anymore, but by g-d I'm recommitting to the practice, and started last night, by donating $10 to a charity cause a friend is supporting.

Feels good to re-start. And thank goodness, it feels good again, and maybe I can give myself the opportunity to redeem myself in my own eyes.

addendum, on another note...

We (or should I say *I*) had a very busy day. It started out with shopping for baby stuff for a baby shower for a co-worker, then a shower, then gift bags and bows and tissue paper. Then lunch with another co-worker before the shower. Then my sister and my nephews and niece came by (yup, she needed something - as usual) then, at roughly 7:30 on a Sunday night, I realized we hadn't had dinner. Off we ran to McDonalds because it was a quick fix for the time crunch.

On the way home, something came on the radio that Kassi hated and she asked us if we'd change stations. The child is convinced that she owns the damned radio in the car. So, we changed it, to the 80's channel or some other shit we'd never listen to, you know, just to torture her. Of course I sang loudly, and badly, and we all laughed and acted silly. Well, you remember that song "Just Dance" by Lee Ann Womack? The one she supposedly wrote to her young daughter? Well it came on, and Terra listened for a minute and said, quite out of the blue, "When I hear this song, it makes me think about Alexis."

And then I cried. I haven't had that sort of unexpected emotional outburst in a while. It's been nearly 9 years since Alexis died - the years dull the edges. But this one, god, it was such a damned surprise. What in the world made Terra think of Alexis during that song!? Sure it was from the singer to her daughter, but Terra didn't know that, and the lyrics certainly don't make that obvious.

It was like the Universe decided to play whack-a-mole. *DOINK* right in the head. Sheesh! Of course now I'm a little stuck on the fact that Alexis would be turning 9 this summer. Holy shit where do the years go? Happily I can say that for the most part, I think much more about how old my living children will be turning, and not so much about the sad count of years the others have been gone or how old they should be turning.

Anyway. I think there's going to be a lot of new posts here, at least for a while. Seems I've got a lot of purging to do.

Thanks in advance to those who actually stick around to read my rants and self-pity and general bitching. Maybe I'll get around to some poetry eventually. That'd be a surprise huh?

1st post in a whole different kind of blog for me...

I have to admit, I'm a facebook addict - but really, how much can you say in so few characters? It isn't enough to be the cathartic therapy that true blogging is for me. And rightnow in my life, I need a place to vent, a way to release, and a platform on which I can talk myself through to the resolution of my issues. Oh and the issues are many lately!

It's funny, I thought when Terra started Kindergarten, I'd be starting a new chapter in my life. All of a sudden I find myself in a 3 br house, with all 5 of my children living back home - the oldest 2 are adults, and came with their wife/fiance... and one has a baby on the way. Let's do a head count, 'k? Scott and I and our three younger kids Kassi (15) Bren (12) and Terra (6) then Kory (19) moved back in, with his fiance Angela (19) and Tommy (20) and his wife Alec (20) who is expecting their first child in September - plus 2 small dogs, a pit bull mix (indoor dogs) and one husky mix (outside). Then Angela moved out... but she actually stays here most of the time anyway.

And all of a sudden, my house is absolute chaos all.the.damn.time. My younger 3 used to be well behaved, followed the rules, and were perfectly capable of being here alone for a few hours without any major incidents. Now, even with all the extra adults in the house, the younger ones are completely out of control if Scott and I both are out of the house. We both work, out of necessity. There are times when I've left for work, but Scott isn't home from his job yet. Guess what? Those are the times I get phone calls at work about how bad the kids are being, or how they won't listen, or aren't following the rules.

Dear god help us. They can't "control" my pretty-damn-well-behaved-if-I-do-say-so-myself 6 year old, what are they going to do when they have their very own child to care for?

So Kory has a really great job, with benefits, and serious advancement opportunity. He and Angela will be moving out into their own place within a month. I'm hoping that pans out, but to be honest, I'm not holding my breath - honestly, I'm not sure he'll be able to afford it just yet. We'll see.

Tommy's job, well, he does pretty much the same thing Kory does but for a shittier company for less pay, and doesn't get a lot of hours. He was out of work for a long time, so I'm glad he has a job, but this one really isn't helping him and his wife get on their feet. No way in H-E-Double Hockey Sticks that job is going to support the THREE of them - and his wife refuses to even consider getting a job. She's much too busy being pitifully pregnant.

My job is sucking lately, and I'd love to look forward to coming home. But home is a messy place, full of way too many people who don't clean up after themselves or pitch in to keep the house running smoothly. And, it smells like fucking dogs in here damn it.

I want my life back!

to blog... or not to blog. That *IS* the question

now to come up with the answer.

There she is!

Sometimes I'm like that long lost half-sister on your father's side, or that broke-ass friend. I only show up when I want something from you.

I've been stupid-busy with clients and projects, then had the brilliant idea to throw myself into my husband's website idea 100% on top of the craziness. What? Yes I'm crazy, crazy in love with him, and crazy about the concept behind the site. And crazy from lack of sleep lately too, but that's a story you're used to hearing out of me.

So anyway, I know I've talked in the past about the dysfunctional dynamics surrounding my family, right? My father had already been married and had 5 kids before he and ma met, and due to whatever circumstances, basically, I had 5 sisters, 2 of whom I'd met as a very young child, the other 3 of which I never met, and I could barely remember what their names were, and consistently misspelled 2 of them... Mom and he divorced when I was a little kid, and most of the history on my father's side slipped into that place that's easy for a kid to accept - out of sight out of mind, ignorance is bliss, wtf ever you want to call it. Till something like a year and a half ago, when my half-sister (one of the 2 I'd met as a child, whose name I *could* spell) calls me out of the blue after, well, nearly 30 years.

I didn't deal well with it then, and frankly, I haven't bothered to exactly embrace the new arrangements thanks to the way things went at the time. She now lives with my mother and they seem happy as pigs in shit to be reunited. I for one, lived my whole life without that side of my family, still feel suspicious of the fact that she simply re-appeared out of nowhere after all these years, wanting/needing something. Oddly, she (and the rest) had been unable to find me for 3 decades prior to that - not even to tell me that my father was dead (which she of course, plopped into my lap a mere 5 minutes into our first phone call. "Yeah my father died, my son died...."

Yeah, again, that's another rant.

A few months ago, I decided to shy away from Myspace in favor of FaceBook, and long-lost-sister sent me a friend request. I let it sit for a few months, not really sure what to do or how I felt about her being part of my daily life, privy to every status update I put into the cyberworld.

Then I gave in to my sense of duty and obligation (or guilt, whichever) and added her. Within a few weeks, I've got all sorts of people requesting to be on my friends list. Names I do not recognize, names I think I *might* possibly recognize... family members, ones I was vaguely aware of, and ones I was completely unaware of.

Frankly, it's freaking me out. It's like having someone prattle off a list of characters in a soap opera you've never seen before, and never had a lot of interest in, and aren't entirely sure you even care about. I have no idea who these people are, and in a very real sense, they have nothing to do with my life.

Today I was given access to one of those Ancestry.Com websites for the Monahan family.

So far all it's done is bring up a painful past, remind me of people who spent their whole lives not caring enough about me to even keep in touch. They were adults when my mother and father split up, I was eight years old, if they wanted a relationship with me then they should have stepped up back then. They didn't bother and now all of a sudden they want to tell me how many family members there are and where they live and how many have facebook pages, and show me pictures and paperwork dating back to 1920.

It's weird, it's uncomfortable. I don't even know what my father's parents names were, how am I supposed to learn all these new people. How am I supposed to assimilate myself into their family? Should I even try? Do they have time? Do I have the energy? Do any of us have the room in our realities for all the new family ties?

Is it worth even worth it? I don't know. Part of me feels like, why should I bother at the age of 37 to go through the trouble when none of them could do so before?

So there's what I want. Your questions, your advice, your input. Cuz I'm too weirded out about it, too angry from the past, to even trust my own judgement about it all right now.

And while you're at it, ya reckon you can tell me why I *ALWAYS* misspell the word judgment? kthanx