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