Saturday, November 26, 2011

even little things are missed at the endii

im unable to use capitals or certain characters on my phone with this site. bear with me readers...

sometimes when im on the bus or in a carride, especially at nighttime, i feel like i could ride on forever. put on some music that pairs well with the stars and an empty highway, and ill be a good passenger. after a while, you see the clock and you stop caring about what time it is. theres no time in the world of cruise control. there are no deadlines on a dead road. and there are certainly no countdowns in your mind when you want nothing but to go on into eternity.

i remember lying late into the night in the passanger seat or even just in my own backyard under the stars hoping morning would absolutely never come.  those stars gave me hope. now i get helplessly lost in them, wondering what they really mean to me. do i still admire their beauty the way i used to long ago, or are they just a nostalgic reminder of something ive lost touch with and tried to forget?

that night on the beach under the stars was one of the best nights ive had in a long time. it was one of the nights i felt myself falling in love. a night that brought together a place in my heart, a person i was admiring, and the awe and wonder of the sky, all together into one memorable evening.  when we felt it was time to go, i knew it was late but i couldve frozen those couple hours in time for as long as father time wouldve given me a deal. but father time doesnt make deals. we just have to enjoy moments we have and deal with it. i could deal with it that night, because i knew it wasnt just that night. it was a night that would turn into many more.  i was certainly ok when i was granted the hope of more.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

9-5 doesn't always sound so terrible

As much as I like my freedom from over-the-table bullshit, I miss people.  I miss talking to people throughout the day, even if it's just for a moment.  Sometimes I really liked retail, especially when I worked at the lingerie boutique and I would give women advice on what looked amazing on them and have a laugh or two.  When the day would get really lonely (I used to open and close on my own) I would lean on the doorframe at the threshold and watch the vacationers of Newport walk by.  Little kids holding Daddy's hand, teenage girls walking the dog or pushing their bike along, the occasional soccer mom who would come into the store take one look at a price tag and then walk out... I didn't really blame them for leaving, I wasn't even making enough to buy things from my own store, but I was happy to have their company for a few minutes.

Every job has its bullshit moments.  Waitressing has about a hundred a day, but I have to say five pounds ago and I'm missing the running around for hours at a time and feeling an adrenalin rush of memorizing drinks and orders.  Flirting with a group of hungover college guys at brunch and you get a great tip, or complimenting the earrings of an otherwise snotty ceo woman and she'd want to know your whole life story.  I could've gone without the complaints about mixing up a side, or how someone's beer was slightly too bubbly, but at the end of the day I could say I made about a hundred people smile.

Now I work in a home.  I leave my home, and I go to a home.  Some days like today, I'm in the house. all. effing. day.  And the baby will also be in the house all day.  He's teething now, and today I just wanted to take him for a walk to distract him from the repetitiveness of his room.  But no, folding sheets and towels was more important this afternoon, and I still got almost none of it done because the baby decided he was going to have a fit since we were cooped up.  I'm not looking forward to winter. 

I just wish I could figure out more for him to do, or maybe I just need more advice on what'll make the kid happy when his gums hurt, blah blah blah.  One thing is for sure, my company all day is my boss, a baby, and a dog.  Sounds like a great gig, and most of the time it is.  But today I found myself in tears because I'm going stir crazy.  I was really looking forward to "crawling cuties class" so I could go hang out with a bunch of soccer moms and their babies for an hour.  Then the baby slept through the class and we didn't end up going.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!  I'm 22 years old, and that's what I look forward to. 

My job is not as awful as my complaining may make it sound.  In fact, I really have grown close to my boss as a dear friend, and advice giver, and the baby clings to me like a little orangutan.  BUT again, I miss people during the day, and I miss variety in a job.  I sometimes think my boss doesn't know that she's cooped up in the house all day because she works from home and is used to it, and she doesn't get when I laugh a little at her obsession with what shade of cream to paint the baby's room... Ok, so it's my job to listen to that part, but I really hate cream.

Also, I want to point out that several nannies have told me they make more than me and they don't do any of the housework that I do.... I'm at a loss about what I should do with that.  How do you talk to someone that has been treating you well, getting really close with you, and giving you the time off when you need it blah blah blah --- about the fact that they're technically not paying you to be a housekeeper and you weren't hired for higher than the description of "light housework" but it's slowly become something unexpected without you realizing until it's too late?!?  I feel sick to my stomach every time I look at her and think about bringing it up, but I feel sick with annoyance every time I have to scrub the countertops or iron a curtain.

Lately I've been thinking A LOT about going back to school for a brief period to become a medical assistant.  Maybe I'd make more or about the same money per hour but I'll actually have 40 hours a week like I desperately need, and I'd see people all day.  That's what I think the solution to my inner frustration is:  I'm not social enough throughout the day, and I'm obsessing over towels and a teething baby.  (ok, a really effing adorable teething baby)