tHe haPPy grOUch

tHe haPPy grOUch

Saturday, January 25, 2014

I said I was going to write today before work. Well, I'm in the parking lot. But it's still technically before work.

I haven't written anything of substance for a while. I've wanted to, but just haven't. Not entirely sure why.

I've been at the "new job" for about a month now.
I've tended bar for a very long time, in a few different venues. This already takes the cake for being the most... Interesting.
The (tip) earning potential isn't quite what I expected, but all together I'm still making a few bucks over minimum wage. I keep telling myself that. Doesn't seem to help though.
The environment is different, too. I've always thought that it is beneficial to work with a diversity of people. I mean, if you were surrounded by people just like you every day, how awful would that be? But then again, what if the people you are surrounded by are SO fundamentally different from you that you literally feel like you're on a different planet?? I don't know. It's really weird though.
And I can't say much more than that. Can you imagine how difficult this is for me?? To have been given such fodder for writing, and not be able to write about it???
Damnit. Oh well.

Kids are good. Well, Dawson is good. I rarely see or talk to Logan, as status quo. I miss her. I think she's back in contact with that douchebag again. I wish he would just disappear.
In the meantime, I'm pouring myself into Dawson. Again, at times I feel like Norman Bates' mother.

I'm seeing my husband again. There, I admitted it. Phew.
I love him, of course, but... there's always the "but"... We are supposed to be getting our divorce in just over two weeks.
I don't know.
That's all I have to say about that. For now.

I have been in a lot of pain off and on for the last couple months. Something going on with my shoulder. No idea where it came from. I didn't fall or injure it, just started basically out of nowhere. And sometimes, the pain is downright unbearable. These last two weeks have been hell. I'm going to break down and see the Doc this week, and probably get back in to my chiropractor.

I'm counting down the days till my dad's birthday. Dreading it. Somehow it's worse than my birthday, or thanksgiving, or even Christmas. Every day is still a struggle with grief.

I continue to think about the impending move. Still have no idea where we will go, how I will possibly find a place with my horrible credit, meager income, my pet menagerie, how I will support us, etc, etc, etc.
It's quite frightening.
Paralyzingly frightening.

Well, time to go to work. Got a ton of pain meds on board, so hopefully it'll be tolerable.

Be well.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

I feel like writing, but I don't have time this morning... have to get to a basketball game.
Maybe I'll vent later.
It'll probably sound a lot like this...


Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Well there, I managed to go a week without writing.

There's been plenty to write about. Really, there's always plenty to write about in my life. Seriously, it's like a poorly directed soap opera. I just haven't managed to put it all into cohesive thought. And it still may not qualify as cohesive today, but I'll write anyway.

Oh yeah, I got a job!!! (Most of you are facebook friends, and already knew this)... So anyway, this is how it happened...

Okay, months of proactive job hunting... browsing online job searches, filling out applications, sending/dropping off resumes, interviews, second interviews.. And then one day, the week before Christmas, I get a text from a friend (and former co-bartender) of mine. She says she's back to work at this little local bar, and they need another bartender. She tells the boss that there's only one person she would trust and be willing to work with- me. So, I call the boss, go meet with her for a whole 5 minutes, and she wants me to start ASAP, and here's the shifts I can choose from. I go home and sleep on it, call her the next day, negotiate a wage and day shifts, and- wham- just like that, I'm employed.
I still think it's ironic (and perhaps karmic) that after a lengthy, militant job hunt, this one just kind of fell in my lap.

So anyway, I started the day after Christmas, this is my third week. It's an interesting little (and by little, I actually mean tiny)  "neighborhood bar". So far, the day clientele is pretty low-key, with the occasional "interesting" characters (aka, obnoxious drunks). The owner has recently taken it back over after a couple unsuccessful lease attempts. It appears that she's digging her way out of some unfortunate circumstances. And she's dealing with a lot of personal issues on top of trying to revive the bar. Everything seems to be a bit chaotic, staffing, finances, etc... But hopefully it'll stabilize soon. It does have great potential.
Hopefully it'll turn out to be a long-term kinda thing.

In the meantime, the other bar I work at also re-opened a couple of weeks ago, and so I am back to work there one night a week, as before. Things are a little chaotic there as well; working out all the glitches of operating a new business. But the transformation of the place is absolutely astounding, the staff has really pulled together under the new owner, and the public response has been tremendous.

And so, being back to work is one of the more monumental events of my so-called soap opera.

Then again, being back to work has it's downfalls, too.
Dawson will now be a latch-key kid a couple days a week. This scares the bejesus out of me. For soooooooo many reasons. What if there's a fire? Or, what if he starts a fire in the microwave trying to make easy mac? What if he hurts himself? What if he falls down the stairs? What if he loses his key? What if.. what if.. what if... I've painted so many ridiculous worrisome scenarios, it's almost enough for me to quit my job and look for something that has school hours. I don't get home till around 6:30, but Mom will come here right when she gets out at 4, so Daws will only be home alone for about an hour. But, STILL... Ugh.
Ugh, ugh, ugh.
He has the option of getting off the bus at his Dad's with his step-brother, but he has decided he's going to get off here and wait for Babchi (my mom, "grandmother" in Polish). We'll see how it goes. This is the first week. I've asked Logan to come here on the days that I am working to be with her brother after school, but she hasn't committed to it.
Thursday's will be the toughest... Thursday is usually when he goes back to his Dad's. We haven't worked Thursdays out yet. He'll either get off here, wait for me to get home, and then I'll take him right to Dad's, or he'll get off at Dad's, and I just won't have him Thursdays anymore. Or, maybe, his Dad and I will work it out so that he stays here some Thursday nights. That would be nice. We shall see.
I hate that I get home from work and only have about 2 hours with my little buddy before I have to put him to bed. Sigh. But, it's only a couple days a week. I do have two days off when he's here, so we'll make the best of it.

Speaking of my little buddy, I've noticed that with all the changes in my life (Logan moving out and Troy leaving), that I've developed a potentially unhealthy attachment to my son. I've always missed him when he goes to dad's, but now it's exaggerated a hundredfold. Christ, I miss him as soon as I put him to bed at night, or when he gets on the bus in the morning. I want to be close to him all the time. I've let him sleep in my bed on occasion. He's always complaining about me hugging and kissing and cuddling him too much (which is partially normal, of course.. he is an adolescent boy, after all). But, I have noted that I'm more (emotionally) dependent upon him lately. I know it's because I'm lonely, and because I've lost a few very important people in my life recently (Dad, Logan, Troy)...
I'll have to be aware, and try not to smother him too much I guess. Try not to make him responsible for being the cure to my loneliness.
Sometimes I feel like Norman Bates' mother.

I see Logan about once a week. I hear from her every couple days or so, and that's usually only because I text her. It's weird. I mean, I know they grow up, eventually move out and on their own. But this is different. She didn't just grow up and go find her own apartment, or move into the dorm. She went to stay with her dad. After years of staying with me and Dawson. My relationship with her has changed. I can't even say it evolved; it's more like disintegrated. Everyone keeps saying the same old things... it's the age, it'll come back around, it'll get better, blah blah blah... In the meantime I get to go on feeling like I've lost my best friend. That's awesome.

And then there's my soon-to-be ex-husband. Whom I continue to try to let go of, and then continue to talk with, spend time with. It's like this weird cycle.
Just when I think I've learned the answer to the age-old question- "When do you know enough is enough?", it turns out, I don't actually know it. Evidently, letting go has never been one of my strong points.

As a whole, everything in my life and in my (near and long-term) future is still so very unpredictable. Where I will live, relationships, jobs... It's all so unsettling. And by unsettling, I actually mean terrifying.
If I were more of a live-in-the-moment kind of gal, that might be a little easier to tolerate.
I guess I have no choice but to "just keep swimming". I just wish the current was a little more calculable.