Friday, September 17, 2010

I work on Sundays at a little bar in Rochester. Its a dive bar, its dark, its run by assholes, and it smells a little funky. However, it has fabulous regulars who tip well, it has great wings, and plenty of TVs to watch any game you'd like. My shift is just sunday during the day, right during football. I rarely walk away from a 7 hour shift with less than 200 bucks in my pocket. I'm a good bartender, I'll remember your name and your drink and fill your empty cup in a timely manner. None of the regulars have ever complained about me. **note that regulars everywhere like to complain. I like my job, I enjoy the bar, I like my co-workers.... but I don't live and die for it.

I got fired today.

My boss called to ask me if I would be working this sunday. The answer was no. I got the shift covered by a co-worker so that I could relax with friends from college. Her words exactly: "If you don't come in, consider yourself no longer employed." HUH? Am I doing something wrong? "No. But you only work one day a week and you have missed 2 of the last 4 weeks." What? I didn't work on Labor Day because someone called to ask if they could work my shift. They wanted hours, they needed money. I let them work it. "Doesn't matter. Are you coming in on Sunday?" No. I got the shift covered already. "Ok then. It was nice to know you." CLICK.

I have never been fired. Layed off, yes. Seasonal employment over, yes. Business closed, yes. But never ever fired. I am a hard worker. I am a good bartender.

I didn't get a chance to explain. She just hung up on me. I was stunned. And pissed. And when I'm pissed I cry. So I couldn't even call her back because I have been a blubbering idiot for the last two hours.

How come nothing can possibly go right for me this year? I don't believe in Karma, and I certainly have never done anything so awful as to deserve this.

I cannot wait to see my friends this weekend, I need them....and a large glass of wine.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

60 Miles or Bust

A few weeks ago I took a look at my life and I hated what I saw. I was moping. I was brooding. I was bitter. I was fighting with my loved ones for no reason. Sleeping in until 1 or 2pm just because, staying up late and feeling bad about it. I was working at a job that I despised, ie. If I were going to hell I would be LANDSCAPING for all eternity. I was not doing anything that I could be proud of or feel good about. I couldn't sleep at night, I was getting massive migraine style headaches, I had gained 15 pounds. I was feeling lonely, lazy and unfulfilled.

I signed up for the Susan G. Komen 3-day for the Cure.

Although when I think about myself walking 60 miles I can't help but notice how improbable that is. I am a wimp. I whine alot. I hate being tired. I hate being cold. I despise being wet. The farthest I walk on a regular basis is from my couch to the fridge. SIXTY MILES IS A LONG LONG WAY. I reset the meter in my car, and drove around for a few days. I was stunned by how long it took me to actually drive 60 miles. I hadn't thought about how far that actually is.

I am excited to have a purpose. For the remainder of this year and next I have a goal. I am making a difference and I am not just changing my life, I'm changing the lives of lots and lots of people. This is kinda a big deal.

I am blessed to have my mom along for the journey. I have someone with a common goal! I'm thankful for the support of my family and friends as well as I train my body to cooperate with my goals. I appreciate all the help too as I struggle to raise the required $2300.

If my friends could each spare just $7 I will reach my goal. I know times are tough, but life is tough. Things never go as planned, but one good turn deserves another. Please help me in earning the money I need to participate, and find your own blessings in helping in return.

Click here to DONATE. All donations are tax deductible and guaranteed to make you feel good.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

cloudy day baking

I bake when its raining, turning my kitchen into a warm and cozy haven. I love to toss a bunch of random stuff into my kitchenaid mixer and then "voila" something magic and delicious happens. I also bake when I'm homesick. Something familiar and gooey. I mostly bake when I'm sad though. Something new, and difficult. Perhaps a recipe I haven't tried before, or something with tons of prep work, something to keep my hands busy and my mind off whatever is bugging me. The 15 pounds I have gained since May can be attributed to the baking. I like the feeling of accomplishment I have when I set the five-layer, chocolate heaven cake on the table to admire it. I like the satisfaction I get when the sink is empty of dirty dishes and sweet, fruit tarts linger on a linen napkin.