This was just it though. I survived another awkward Valentine's Day (just barely).
Went into work well aware of the fact that Janine would be getting showered-- and I mean, literally showered-- with gifts, roses and those damn edible arrangements. Flowers then arrived for Stacey. Come on now, at work? What cheese ball boyfriend does this? The girls do have their own address, right? As your coworker, I don't care to see the bills you receive, nor do I need a display of affection from your personal life to compare it to the lack in mine.
That kind of shit stings, especially when what you (and by "you" I mean "I") had going on didn't pan out. I'm just a Bitter Betty sometimes, what can I say?
With that alone, I caught an unexpected adult case of the five-year-old-who-never-learned-to-share...also known as the Jealous Bitch Syndrome. It's the middle child coming out in me-- although my mother will be the first to tell you and everyone else that as the only daughter, that excuse doesn't count.
So I wasn't in the best mood. Shoot me.
My boss had been riding my ass all week long, complaining of me being "moody" as it was.
To be honest, I had more than just one reason to be moody. My boss has been considering his generosity toward me to be something I need to repay, if you catch my drift. What an ugly truth.
He has reminded me, nearly daily, for his "invitation" to arrive, and that he has been patient.
Puke in my mouth. Really? Now do you blame me for being moody? It's harassment... His solution for my piss-pot attitude? Pull me out from behind the bar while I still have guests sitting there, down to his office in the basement (doesn't sound shady at all, right?), and rip me a new asshole. Forget asking me what the issue is. No, instead tear me down for having a problem with him allowing servers to dip their hands into my till while I am out running a lunch delivery. While everything that is behind the bar is his, as he put it, it is MY responsibility to pay out-of-pocket if my drawer is off the mark at the end of shift. Forgive me, for being concerned about my financial well-being. Forgive me for not wanting to have to witness such a showy, dramatic hallmark holiday, and forgive me for not wanting to blow you.
You ask me, why not move on? Because serving somewhere where you are basically living check to check doesn't allow for you to just up and quit, take time off to look for another opportunity, much less to train and not make what you were making before. That is at least an entire month's hit-- rent, bills, other unexpected expenses. This is the world of a server. Beggars can't be choosers, but I can also only play the game so long. If I could go back to school right now, I would. If I could leave where I'm at, you wouldn't have to tell me twice. But this, for the moment, is about survival.
It's hard to count down the days to a date of departure, when you don't have a set date.
It's hard to carry out a plan you've envisioned but haven't had the necessary resources for.
I guess it's just time to dream bigger, but not just dream, to act.
For if I don't, this black hole that waiting has been for me might just swallow me whole.
-Malia Etienette
Photo Credit:
"Camel Facts, Pictures and Habitat Information"- www.liveanimalist.com
"Reine Diamonds and Fine Jewelry"- www.facebook.com
"Love: The Ugly Truth"- www.lifescilife.wordpress.com
"Black Hole"- Vanishin.deviantart.com
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