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2019-09-22 - 6:49 p.m.
I really like living alone. But every so often I really wish I had someone here to make me food. I've developed this new Sunday thing where if I don't have to work or any other obligation, I'm allowed to do whatever the F I want to do. Which usually involves eating food in bed, reading magazines and cookbooks, napping and watching movies. My body and mind hurt by the end of my work week. That restaurant, you guys, we are just so busy all the time. I've kind of changed up my job there a little because bartending six shifts a week was starting to REALLY hurt me. So now I'm managing a few shifts a week and I kept my best bartending shifts. It's actually a pay cut because I don't get paid nearly as much an hour as a manager as I do when I'm getting tips. But it's worth it. Now that I'm doing this, I realize that for the last eight years I've been spending forty hours a week in a state of total, in your face, intensity and motion. It's no wonder I'm so fidgity, my body and mind really don't know how to be at rest. Being the manager is so much easier. And if I need to get some space, I can go lock myself in the office and do computer work. It's been very nice. And I get out earlier on the weekends, which is super nice. I can't tell you how many Saturdays would find me, the last one in the restaurant, on the floor, sobbing because I was so burned out and tired. I hope to never have another Saturday like that. Anyway, my body hurts today. I did some minor chores and then sat outside and read for a while. Then I took a three hour nap and now I don't want to get out of bed but I'm starving and I really want someone to make me some food. I could order Chinese delivery but that doesn't sound great. Neither does pizza (I've been vegan since November and pizza just isn't the same). I'll probably end up with noodles with vegan butter. Sigh. |
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