Wednesday, June 13, 2012

I left Big Jed a voicemail that was just is why.

This is probably going to be a little scatter brained because 1. I have been drinking whiskey and 2. My brain feels like someone hit it with a sledgehammer and then poured some kind of acid on it. The kind that makes it hurt to think.

So, work. Work has been a disaster. I started my new supervisor position within days of starting the events coordinator position. With nothing more than "oh, this is your job now, good luck." I have managed teams of office professionals before, but for some reason this is different. I am overwhelmed. When I am truly overwhelmed I freeze. Deer in a headlights freeze. If I am on the line, my adrenaline usually kicks in before this happens, but sometimes it doesn't. And when I am also moving at the same time all of this is happening, fish out of water is an understatement. I have never coordinated events for a restaurant before. Or done anything remotely like it. There is no current system in place and I am coming up with it on my own. Poorly. I admit it. I don't have the mental capacity to organize all of these things and do all of them well. I am frozen. I come home and I can't even contemplate unpacking. I just can't.

This all came to a head today when I found myself, in the basement of our restaurant, in a screaming match with the owner. Because he made one more crack about how I am failing at communication and I just fucking snapped. I managed not to cry (rage cry, not sad cry) but I told him exactly what I felt about him putting me in this position and just fucking bailing on me. I was livid. I was disappointed in myself. I was embarrassed. I was so many things and I think I just needed to yell at someone. And being the queen of excellent decisions, I chose the person who writes my paychecks. 

It was the best choice I could have made. I feel SO MUCH better. To just tell someone what was really going on. That I felt worthless in every aspect of my life and this is just not like me. I am that person who runs circles around everyone else at work. Not because I want to be better or think I am better than them, but because this is how I was raised. You do the best you can, always. Being bad at my job has never been an option. I was a manager when I was 17 of a teacher supply store. I am that person who actually likes customer service and isn't kissing their boss's ass, I just like being good at what I do. 

I want my house to be organized, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I just can't. It doesn't help that I have worked 32 hours in three days. Which, speaking of, if anyone happens to know of a dishwasher that will actually show up for $10 an hour, I will completely make out with you. 2nd base and shit. Because, I am sick of working late because we can't find someone to fucking wash dishes. This is stupid. Also, I just assumed that you all wanted to make out with me which was very arrogant and I am fine with it. Oh, whiskey.

New House Observations:

  • Living on cobblestone streets in houses that are over 100 years old has some downfalls...the one I notice most, in June, is that it smells like a fart. Old sewer systems suck.
  • Another downfall, the boys car has already been broken into. Shit happens, for sure. And we will keep nothing in our cars. But, I hate that sense of insecurity. I spent far too much time in the suburbs.
  • I walked to work today for the first time. It was the highlight of my day. However, I am definitely happy that tomorrow kickball starts at 6:00 pm so I have to drive. It is going to take some getting used to. Is it weird that I used to run 3 miles a day and walking 2 is exhausting? I think so. And I say used to, because that shit hasn't happened in a month. Moving is stressful.
  • We are very close to a Children's Hospital and the amount of medical helicopters I see makes me sad.
  • The amount of helicopters with spotlights is also sad. Oh, city living.
  •  So far, I love the neighbors. I love everything about this house. I can't even put words to how happy I am to be here.
  • The apartment complex next to our house is slowly becoming blog worthy material. While listening to a spousal disagreement, and audibly laughing at it, the woman said, "Do you hear that? Some bitch is laughing at you. That is how ridiculous you are." After that I pretty much lost my shit and wanted to become their best friends ever. 
  • When it is 80 degrees outside, it is like 68 in our house. This defies logic. And I love it. The skylight in the upstairs bathroom heats the toilet seat to pain from 3 - 5 daily, though.
  • The house tour is being uploaded to You Tube tomorrow so that I can share it with you all. I'm sorry. I required some editing from the boy that I didn't know how to do and he has been busy trying to tame nature. Nature is out of control in this bitch.
  • The animals are so happy I can't even tell you. Short Dog plays ball every night after dinner. Neil moves from window to window stalking birds and plotting THEIR deaths for a change. And I haven't adopted a single stray cat. Yet.
I promise not to be so absent. 

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