There’s nothing like moving to demonstrate to oneself how much of a consumer one is.
I am tempted to just light a match to everything and start over.
But then, I would have to walk around naked.
And that is good for no one.
Fall is my favorite season. It’s cold enough for sweaters, but not cold enough for snow. The leaves turn countless shades of beautiful–my favorite being that deep red that almost looks purple, and the streets become lined with the leaves that have floated down in farewell until the spring comes and they cling to branches once again.
And did I mention the extra hour of sleep?
But of course, no sleep in happening here, because my brain won’t shut off. My life has become much more complicated, now that I am being all open to new ideas and trying to grow emotionally.
Deciding to be a big girl about life doesn’t mean that I don’t still get my feelings hurt; it just means that my emotional response should be more proportional to the stressor. And I think so far, so good. Most of the time. I’m still going to be very emotionally sensitive. Whether that is a result of the abandonment or the abuse, or just a perfectly healthy character trait, I’m not sure.
I do know that I am much better at coming down from my irrationality rather quickly, after some time to think things through. This is progress for a girl who usually reacts to any small emotional wound as if the world were truly ending.
Somewhere out there, is my happiness.
Maybe it will come dressed in a deep red sweater.
Yesterday, I tried a little experiment.
Usually, when I listen to my iPod, if a song isn’t one of the chosen few of the moment, I skip right past in to one of my favorites. I don’t even give it the time of day.
But last night, I decided that as long as I didn’t absolutely hate the song, I was going to listen to it and give it a shot. It was quite enjoyable.
I’ve also been doing the same with thoughts. Instead of just pushing away everything that didn’t fit into my pre-concieved, narrowly defined paradigm, I entertained thoughts that often leave me uncomfortable.
A lot of these thoughts have to do with God and divinity in general. I’ve been questioning my conception of God, and where I fit in the scheme of things in a much different way lately.
In the past, God was just GOD and I was just this completely insignificant, unworthy creation who would simply never be worthy–Atonement or no Atonement.
And I’ve come to some conclusions that many in my life, culture, and religion would find completely disturbing. But this is my journey and my struggle. My path to enlightenment is simply going to be different than yours, but that’s okay.
Now that I’ve accepted that, my next post on the nature of God and the inconcievibilty of sin will be much easier to write.
Despite my two week notice, I still had to go to a training class for two days this week. And the nerd in me rejoiced. I love the theorhetics of my job. If my job happened all on paper, and it mattered more what I knew than how I executed it in the face of reality, I would be golden.
But yesterday marked the return to the face of reality. Despite my jaded cynicism, I’m still an limited optimist. See, I drink the koolaid; I think that our Operations Systems are there for a reason, and the best run stores are those that run according to Systems.
So, I went to work yesterday, and gave it the old college try. There was TTMing and Coaching going on, and I decided it was time to hold people accountable. So what if it was my last two weeks; there was going to be decorum on my last shifts, and it was going to be driven by me.
It started with the iPod. “Jane Doe, you are on order taker, you can’t have your iPod in.”
“I’ve had in on all day.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have. Put it away.”
And after some huffing and puffing, it was put away.
Except that Jane Doe was now pissed, and proceeded to SLAM the window everytime it closed and opened.
“Jane, you really can’t be slamming the window. Please stop.”
And then I moved on. “Joan Doe, you’re leaving at seven, so I need you to make sure all the salads are moved over and everything is stocked and cleaned.”
Imagine, Joan Doe didn’t give me a problem. She simply said, “Okay, I’m working on it.” I said thank you and moved on…
…to Jane Doe, who was leaving at 8.
“Jane, I really need you to be working on those dishes. They’re piling up back there.”
“No, I don’t want to do them.”
“Well, if they’re not done by eight, you don’t get to leave, so I suggest you do them now. Seriously, please just go do your dishes.”
I won’t recount anymore of the discussion, because it was both tedious and completely out of control. This girl had a meltdown. The swearing and the screaming on her part led to a phone call on my part to my supervisor, in which I completely lost it and threw my keys across the office and slammed the door in a fit of rage, and a declaration that I wasn’t going to make it the final week and a half. It was not pretty.
But even uglier was the scene that ensued when I tried to get Jane Doe gracefully out the door, so as not to impact the operations of my restaurant any further. While I was switching drawers, she told whomever she was speaking to on the phone, that she was going to “stab that bitch.”
Three guesses as to who the bitch in question was.
All over dishes.
God Almighty, I need a nice, serene job. Stat.
Left to my own devices, without external guidance, mostly in the form of self-made lists, I would spend all of my time laying in bed, sleeping, stumbling through the internet, and watching Stargate.
While these things are fine and dandy on a limited basis, the temptation always exists to waste all of my days off doing this. I have two in a row this week, and plenty of things that need doing.
So, time for not only a To-Do List, but an Unnegotiable To-Do List. I’ll have to conjure up some dire consequences for failure to complete it. Maybe something like watching a Presidential Debate. ::shudder::