Halloween, kids, work and sleepiness.

What a bummer. Not one kid came in to work today. No little ghouls. No Clowns. Nothing at all! I was looking so forward to interaction with children. The honesty they embody, whether happy or not, is so refreshing and pure. And when they have something cool to talk about, like trick-or-treating and dressing up, they enchant me.

In lieu of kids I got more or less grumpy contractors, frazzled parents and the occasional smiley customer. There were a lot of dressed-up co-workers, though. We had a snowman, a sailor, a fortune teller, a couple of cats, Esmeralda and Mulan. About half way through my shift my co-cashier donned an old-man mask, complete with straggly hair, moustache and beard. Belly laughing on front end is awesome - and helps to escape the onslaught of negativity from surly customers.

Now I'm home. Done. Complete for the day... or so I thought. After work yesterday, when Wolf picked me up, he informed me that we would be kidless as Kitten was to go to a Halloween sleep-over. After getting over my disappointment, I settled into the idea. Now, it appears that we're going to the party ourselves. I'm still working on how I feel about this.

I'm hungry. That's how I feel. Going to get some dinner!

New routines

I have a wonky work schedule. Throughout my week I start work anywhere between 6:30 and 11:00 in the morning. I leave between 3:00 and 7:30 pm. Just for the record, I sometimes have a close shift (11:00 - 7:30) the day before an open shift (6:30 - 3:00). Close nights, I find it incredibly difficult to settle into sleep, thereby making wake-up the next morning a challenge.

I've decided to try something new. I'm setting a more regular wake up time for myself. Today, I have a close shift. Normally, I'd get up 2 hours before my shift, giving my self time to ease into my day. Translation: I would normally have gotten up at 9 am. Last night I set my alarm for 7:30 am. I didn't end up waking to my alarm, though. I got out of bed at 7, after a bit of a tossy-turny sleep.

I feel good. And maybe, just maybe the earlier wake time will make my transition to tomorrow's open shift an easier one. Here's to hoping!

Also, today I get to walk to work. Kitten has an early swim lesson so she and Wolf will be in town when I leave for my day. Thankfully, the weather is looking pleasant. It's cold but not rainy.

On that note, it's time to wake my sleeping beauties.

I wish...

I want to be rich. I know, everyone wants this... well, except the rich, themselves who just want to be more rich. But I want it more, you see. I almost neeeed it!

This idea hit me this morning when I launched myself out of bed at 6:48 on this, the last day of my weekend. Why would I abandon my nest of cozy warmth, my haven of relaxation and peace, in such a manner if it wasn't absolutely necessary? Because it was. Absolutely necessary.

Last night, when Wolf and I snuggled in to sleep, we took up our usual sleeping positions. I rolled away from him while he curled up around me. It's a very comfortable set up until about four hours later when he's sleeping on his belly in the middle of the bed and I can't roll over because there'll be no room to bend my knees unless I hung my ass off the side of the bed. I find it much easier to doze with my knees over-hanging than my backside.I know, I'm so high maintenance, hey?

Then, a couple of hours later I notice the same thing, only now, I'm actually falling off the bed. Good wife that I am, I communicate my need for his repositioning by ramming my back firmly into him and grunting in semi-coherent quasi-English. He responds, accordingly, by giving me just enough bed to keep me on the edge but not actually falling.

By quarter to seven the tension in my neck from remaining immobile, perched on the very edge of our bed was so extreme that my head was throbbing.

Good Morning!

Now, you may be asking what this all has to do with untold riches. Let me tell you. A good bed is quite expensive. We largely rely on a freebie website for our new/recycled. In fact, that site is how we got rid of garbage bags full of out-grown clothes, an unused Wizard organ (which sounds kind of heinous, depending on how you read it), and our queen-sized bed. Yes, our sizable, comfortable (imho) well fitting bed. We currently sleep on a high quality double mattress.

I shouldn't complain. It is a very good bed. The issue is that Wolf and I are somewhat unbalanced in the size and weight dept. He's about two of me. Without the optional buffer zone between us, I just can't compete. He's bigger, stronger (even and especially while sleeping) and dead-weightier.

So, here I sit, thinking about how wonderful it would be to run out to the nearest furniture store for a big slab of post sunset bliss without going into debt. Debt makes me lose sleep which I would definitely find counter-productive.

Feel sorry for me, yet?

Delicious!

I love it when my Husband runs into the bedroom and says, with urgency, "Open your mouth!"

I love it more when this is immediately followed by the introduction of my tongue to a chocolate cream puff. A gluten free, dairy free cream puff!!


What the heck were you thinking?!

Halloween Bust...

I just found Kitten's base costume from last year. Being able to reuse old costumes is made far easier by buying adult sizes and throwing in a couple of stitches to make it workable on a nine year old body. It turns out that the dress still fits well width-wise - Kitten isn't much of a weight gainer - and she's grown enough that she won't have to worry about tripping on its ragged hem. Yay!

Not having much to do on the kidlet's costume started me thinking about my own. My plan was to be a dark/fallen angel. It's my Saturday so I thought I had plenty of time to tweak and perfect. Well, it turns out I have neither the time nor the expertise needed to make right my masterpiece. You see, I have an old pair of leather pants that I have only ever worn once... to the bar... about twelve years ago when I was twenty-three. As much as I have loved them, I've never had the right personality for leather pants. I'm a little bit too hippy-chick. For me, Halloween has always been the perfect time for hair experiments and leather. I have leather (which is not to say I have no hair. I have hair, I just need it to remain mundane for work).
So, I pulled the pants from their place on my closet shelf, slid them on and...

Swore. Loudly.

I forgot that I have lost a literal ass-load of weight. Black leather pants are not attractive when they are two or three sizes too big. Saggy is just not sexy.

So there you have it. My dream of a leather-clad Halloween is dead until next year. Hopefully by then I will have used my 'spare time' to experiment on tailoring pants. Maybe I'll be 20 lbs heavier and not have to worry about it.

For this year, I'm at a loss. I wanted darkness in my costume but nothing too freaky or scary. I work as a cashier and occasionally see children in my line-ups. My goal is to have fun, not to traumatize.

I would ask for ideas but I have only this evening and tomorrow to work on it before I'm back to work on Thursday... Oh yeah, and I have no readership. Seems a bit daunting when seen from this point of view.

Ninja fast...

Today, I learned that I can make it from sleep to working in sixteen minutes. I also learned that I never want to have to do it again. Ever.

I do, however, want to eat Banana Cream Pie, a piece of which is still melting in my mouth. I am the luckiest person in the world. I never thought I'd be eating cream pies again, once I decided to avoid my allergy foods. I was fully accepting of a life devoid of dairy, most grains and anything processed (read: tasty). Then came Wolf (who is, at this moment, lighting wood chips and throwing them in our front garden - and no, there is no reason behind it, at all).

Wolf is my husband, my partner, my soul-mate. We've been together, this time, for six and a half years. Our first year together, he was a very meat and potatoes and cheese and cream sauce kind of guy. That first year was the second nastiest allergic time of my life. Our second year, I tried to abstain from the nasty foods, which meant two evening meals had to be made - don't think that I'm complaining. I don't cook often. That would be Wolf's domain.

Anyway, there was always such disappointment if Wolf made something so delicious that he needed to share it with me. "Just one bite," he'd say. Often, I would cave just to avoid his negative reaction to my refusal^*. That made our second year my worst regarding my allergies. Anyone who's familiar with 'playing' with an allergy knows that messing up now and again hurts more than going whole-hog for months.

By our third year in, his need to please paid off big for me. His kitchen prowess, mixed with his adventurous nature, created the perfect environment for learning. He now has years of trial-and-error, tweaking and practise under his belt and I now have pita bread, delicious lasagna and banana cream pie under mine!


See? I'm a lucky ninja.



*He and I both have issues with self disapproval. His negative reactions, which I always took on myself (thinking that he was upset with me), came from his disgust with himself for having put me in an uncomfortable position.

The beat goes on...

I've done it. I signed up for NaBloPoMo.

*deep breath*

I've never been able to post daily and I've been blogging since 2002. I've found over the past few days that I'm looking forward to writing. If I don't write before work, I think about it until I get home. It's been therapeutic on a few levels and this makes me look forward to the month ahead. It has been a season of change and growth for me, so here's to another step away from my comfort zone.

Practice makes NaBloPoMo possible...

I'm contemplating signing up for NaBloPoMo. Funny thing is, I didn't even know signing up was something one did. I just thought it was about personal commitment. *Sigh*, I'm such a dork.

I've made it half way through my work week. Sometimes I need to hold on to these thoughts. I miss my family, my old life. I realized recently that, even if everything were to return to normal, I still wouldn't be able to go back. My old life is over and it's no bad thing. I have learned so much about myself; I'm so much stronger than I ever thought I could be.

This isn't a news post either. It's late, as I've been up since 5:30 am and my contacts are bugging me so much that I would not be adverse to clawing my eyes out right this moment. I fear that might make the rest of my work week a touch more difficult, though, so I refrain. Go, me!

Yes, there's a story behind my extreme contact use. The problem with all these stories is that I have to start at the beginning. In order for everything to make sense and convey my reality of the situation I am in, currently, I have to begin with background. Anyone who's familiar with me knows that I'm a stickler for detail. I do so like to tell a story. So, in the name of "the good story," I will work on linear writing. Loop-de-loops are best saved for the fair-grounds.

Until then...

Phoenix rising...

Today, I did not hate my job. I didn't love it, but I smiled again. I think much of my stress springs from me, myself. Funny that I say "I think" when I know. I've known this for years.

Soon I will post some news. There's a reason I've been absent - a long convoluted reason. I just don't have the time or energy to go into any detail.

Soon, and this time I promise.

This toast has spent a week in hell...

I cannot tell you how much I hate my job. That's not true. I can tell you but the intensity of the feeling is so frightening, it makes my husband nervous. One side effect of this hatred is the ever shortening of my weekend, which arrives on Tuesdays. This most recent two day break had me in tears by Tuesday afternoon. My depression and anxiety disorders were well in hand and now I am cycling again.

I work at a building supply store. I spend my days with people who are unhappy and seem to be bent on making everyone around them just as miserable. I've been told I need to develop a thicker skin. What if I don't want a thicker skin? It just so happens that I really like who I am. For crying out loud - of which I do a lot these days - I'm thirty-five years old. I know who I am and I don't liek having to smile through thinly to completely unveiled insults. That's not right no matter where a person works.

Is it too much to ask for respect? I'm dealing with some of the most dishonest, ignorant customers out there and I'm asked to do it with a smile on my face. I'm held responsible for their lies ahile beign given no support to call them on their falsehoods. All of this I'm having to do with one month worth of on the floor training and no product identification training. It sure forces me to deal with my perfectionism issues.

Next, I am working with a lot of letters and numbers. I knew I was dyslexic but I had no idea how badly until now. I also have ADD which makes it really hard for me to focus, mentally. I'm good with the conversation aspect but looking at a reciept on which twenty items are displayed and having to identify each, both on the reciept and in the vehicle, is a particularly hellish experience for me.

I'm an introverted, dyslexic, ADD adult with depression and anxiety issues (read: sensitive artist). I have a tough time standing in one place for long periods of time. I'm helping to financially support my family - I know, I'll get a job standing behind a counter serving ignorant, unhappy people for eight hours a day and I'll do it for ten bucks an hour!

Me thinks my logic was faulty.