January272012
It was all in that look; those all too attentive wide-eyes, the slight gape in his mouth as a thought scratched the surface of his brain. It was the all too characteristic crook’d smile. It was the mumbles, the hellos and good-byes. It was the sit-down-and-chat-with-you while you test the ability to not let green pesto streak all over the corners of your mouth. Let me eat my sandwich, please.
I fight the feeling of being watched—Like his hazel eyes are catching my every move. Do I take my usual messy bite? Do I rest my elbows on the table? Do I pat my mouth with my used and grimy napkin? Or whilst I offend his privileged Sir?
”Ahnd whut is iyt you haave heeare? You ahven’t even toutched it yhet,” he cups it in his hand, places his fingers on the plastic spoon—
That’s my soup. Don’t touch my soup. I am going to eat it. I’ve just been so concerned with not making a mess out of my sandwich that I forgot about it.
I snatch it away from him, “That’s Cream of Potato Bacon Cheddar, it’s soo good,” and scarf it down. Gulp. Lick the spoon. Scratch out every little morsel. Lick the spoon.
He makes another note of conversation. I indulge in it while checking the seconds on the clock. Nod my head. Smile. Laugh. Check the clock.
That look glazes over his face again. Inquiring eyes, studious eyes. I dismiss it and avert my thoughts.
The timer goes off, and as I leave he sends me off with a proper goodbye. Goodbye Sir, until next time.
9PM
Let’s get this straight,
I have worked long and hard for this company for just about 9 months. I’ve taken all of the shit you threw at me and shook it off. I’ve busted my ass to meet impossible demands and thrown myself out there to make sure shit gets done. I know and you know that I’m just about one of the only people here who actually does their job the way they’re supposed to and does it well. I’ve been pushed to my limits and stretched even further in order for this team to succeed—because although I understand I may be just a little worker-bee, for some crazy reason I actually care about my team, and about our store. I take it all as a reflection of who I am, I think I’ve damn well proven myself to be a strong worker and to be worthy of some consideration.
I, just as you, care about the success of the store and efficiency of our team—but I have worked hard for my position, and I will be second to none. Little Miss Newbie is lovely and all, but if she can’t take the heat,
why the hell does she get a break? Yes, I am more experienced. Yes, I can get the job done quicker and better than she. But how are we to expect her to grow and become another strong member of our team if we don’t give her the chance to do so? Throw her some shit in the wind. She can take it. And if she can’t, well, she obviously wouldn’t stick around with us for long anyway.
I’m not looking to stick around for another 9 months scrubbing floors and cleaning toilets while I could be growing and progressing and moving up.
When I moved from Main to Von Karmen I was told that I was going to be the closing Barista. When I learned that I wasn’t, I was sore, but I didn’t throw a fit. I understood that Chenda had moved up to her position and I wasn’t about to steal it away from her. I let it go, and did everything you threw on me.
Here I am. I’ve worked hard. I’m tired of being thrown around. I’m not just a worker-bee. I’m a worker-bee who’s ready to be recognized for everything. If not, I’m ready to find a company who will. (And then you guys will REALLY be screwed.)
Best Wishes,
Sarah Gwynn
January12012
No. 1 Save more than you spend.
No. 2 Write/read something every day.
No. 3 Take even more photographs.
No. 4 Make a masterpiece.
No. 5 Love yourself, love others, love tea. (Yes, that’s right, tea.)
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11AM
I feel like I should be working on writing some New Years Resolutions,
but the only thing I really hope for is that 2012 will be a better year.
10AM
Depression is humiliating. It turns intelligent, kind people into zombies who can’t wash a dish or change their socks. It affects the ability to think clearly, to feel anything, to ascribe value to your children, your lifelong passions, your relative good fortune. It scoops out your normal healthy ability to cope with bad days and bad news, and replaces it with an unrecognizable sludge that finds no pleasure, no delight, no point in anything outside of bed. You alienate your friends because you can’t comport yourself socially, you risk your job because you can’t concentrate, you live in moderate squalor because you have no energy to stand up, let alone take out the garbage. You become pathetic and you know it. And you have no capacity to stop the downward plunge. You have no perspective, no emotional reserves, no faith that it will get better. So you feel guilty and ashamed of your inability to deal with life like a regular human, which exacerbates the depression and the isolation. If you’ve never been depressed, thank your lucky stars and back off the folks who take a pill so they can make eye contact with the grocery store cashier. No one on earth would choose the nightmare of depression over an averagely turbulent normal life.
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.
(Source: sherunsfromdarkness, via fu-fu)
December252011
Today I realized how awkward Southern California looks wrapped up in big red bows and inflatable snowmen.
Especially with the all too comfortable toasty breeze ruffling the palm trees outside.
I don’t know why every year I hope to wake up in the morning and have the magic of Christmas fill my home.
Every year I wake up and it’s just another day,
except full of expectations of joy and fulfillment.
Maybe it’d be more magical with a blanket of snow.
You can stuff as much frothy Christmas music you can possibly stand down my throat, but I’m afraid it’ll just never bring back the sweet innocence of years past.
Perhaps this is just how it’s always going to be…