Doesn't that make a whole lot of sense? I will never understand where the pleasure is for my father to sit inside freezing spaces. Comfort 101 is the class he needs to sign up for. This is one of the many reasons I don't think I will ever be able to permanently live with him. Sitting and living in total discomfort, freezing my ass off for life just doesn't seem appealing (no guys I'm not THAT petty, there are lots of other reasons, this is just one that I am currently dealing with). I have literally been wearing layers, IN DUBAI. If I wanted to do that I would have just stayed home. Thank you father. This is oh so pleasant.
Now that my nagging is out the way.... Days like today I feel my bad habit wanting to come out. As my trip continues I start to think of the things I will have to face when I return home. The breakfast, lunch and dinner dates to catch up. The one on one drinking sessions, as well as the family get together's, jams, parties, and BBQ's which we have mastered oh so well over the years. All of these things warm my heart.
Then I have to consider the more serious side of life... and this is why I say, days like today I feel my bad habit wanting to come out. But some days are more difficult than others. If I have to face going back to that bloody job, I actually think I will have a nervous break down. I am sick and tired of pouring people's beer, listening to their wasted rants, pretending I give a shit about what allergies to what foods people have so I can tell cooks who barely speak English to modify a dish, only to get snapped on about it 9 times out of 10. The other 1 time out of the 10 is a perverted comment that was maybe funny for the first 5 years, now not so much. Not to mention the "can I pick up the drinks for table 95! *sigh, tapping fingers on the bar*" when I have 2 full sections to deal with and frankly I just feel like throwing all the bottles at everyone around me.... Ok so maybe the nagging wasn't out the way. But I guess it's just that day, where I have to get my head around the reality I have created for myself, after the beautiful escapism I buried myself in since I've been here. This reality can be summed up in one of my last moments at the bar before I left: Being held responsible for a douchebag not showing up for his shift, claiming to be deathly sick (and somehow waltzed in the next day just peachy keen), being essentially bribed into staying to cover said douchebag's shift, only to get yelled at and snapped on despite staying to help, by someone who in 5 years I have never gotten in any conflict with. Then after this fantastic double shift with no break (legalities much?), coming in the following morning for another double shift, and by the end of it, being found by my manager hiding and crying in the beer fridge, trying to calm myself down, trying to tell myself it's not so bad, that there are people who are far worse off than me. And while I appreciate all that I have, this somehow doesn't help. And amongst all this, I will not even touch upon the subject of the abuse we take from some customers. That subject is literally book worthy.
So here it is: I am sick of hearing everyone in that place bitch about each other, and then turn around smiling at each other. I am sick of hearing gossip about management, and having all the rumours held over my head as if I know more or have anything to do with them, just because I am nice enough to be friends with all of them. I DO NOT TAKE SIDES. I just don't care enough to, I have other shit to deal with in life aside from all that petty nonsense, and frankly, I envy you if you don't. I am sick of having to chase around for things that are not my responsibility. I am sick of working the hours I do with no break, just because I am on bar, and yet still get the break time deducted from my pay cheques. I am sick of politely saying hello to head office and being completely ignored as if I were a dog FOR 5 YEARS. I am sick of cleaning beer pipes, sticky fridges covered in gunk, picking gum off tables for their holy inspections, to get no thanks EVER. If I wanted to become a maid, at least Molly Maid has a car with pretty pink writing on the side. And the cherry on the cake that is the glorious place that I work in, I am SICK of going in there to be told "welcome home baby" in the back. While this is said by my favourite cook, it really puts things into perspective.
I am a happy person by nature. Sure maybe a tad odd and rough around the edges, but happy nonetheless. When I cross the threshold of that shit hole (it rhymes so it must be true), my smile fades, my spirit turns to grey, and I instantly start counting the hours until I can leave. But when I do leave, bad habits kick in to distract myself from the fact that I will have to go in again the next day. The artist in me struggles there, and my goals in life get shadowed and set aside. Vicious cycle anyone?
How do you stop a tornado from destroying it's surroundings? Short of just sitting and praying, waiting for it to end and hoping God has enough mercy to leave you with something to seek comfort in after. The tornado is my employment. The destruction is my life. The question is, who is playing Mother Nature controlling this tornado. Is it materialism? Is it the need to have something on a resume? Bills? The want for for more? The need to find a way out?
And what do you do when you realize after all of it, that you are your own tornado? And you are completely spinning and spiraling out of control.
I just want to go back to school.
A few months ago I was filling out a mature student survey, which had a lot of questions about how students who go back to school are dealing with it, and perhaps after the survey is done, someone will run some statistics and do something to help improve the student life. One of the questions was very vague, but I still find myself contemplating the answer every now and again when I struggle with the questions you asked yourself at the end of this post.
ReplyDeleteThe question was "My life is full. Agree/Disagree".
And I got stuck on that question for such a long time. I wondered - "do they mean it's occupied with lots of stuff that i have to do? do they mean it's complete and i'm satisfied with it? are they asking if i'm too busy for school with having so much stuff to do? are they asking if i'm comfortable with the things i'm doing? 'full' is such a vague word..."
I can't remember what i answered for the survey, but every now and again when I find myself in a situation where my days are hectic and busy and filled with stuff, i pause and i ask "is my life full? and is it full as in rich and colourful? or is it just full of crap? and why am i filling my life with this?"
If i find myself smiling while contemplating, then usually the answer is simple - my life is full of music, full of joy, full of friends, full of new things and experiences, full of love. But if i find myself getting frustrated and annoyed that my life is full of chores and errands and a dead-end job and a whole slew of other stuff, then i stop and reorganize my time such that i can say "my life is full, in an enriching way."
Before i went back to school last september, i didn't know this question yet, but my experience coming into work was exactly as you described yours. My smile faded, and i became someone else - and i didn't enjoy this other person. Luckily for me, i got laid off, and went back to school. Now my life is full of new things, new experiences, and new adventures.
Go back to school, Emilie - you'll never regret it. And it doesn't even matter what you study there, because at the end of the day, it's what you can 'do', not what degree you hold that gets you the job. And for a creative person such as yourself, being in a job that sucks your soul dry of creativity is an awful waste.
Learn. Engage. Discover. Create. Enjoy!!
^__^