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2023-11-19 - 7:11 p.m.
I used to be a hostess at a restaurant a long, long time ago and we had to answer the phone, "thank you for calling Cork and Cleaver, this is (whoever was answering), how can I help you?" And when I said my name, I would inevitably be questioned about my name. Don't get me wrong, I like my name, a lot. But it gets annoying when your profession requires you to say it a bunch of times over the course of your shift. It's one of the reasons I'm pressing my old job (twelve years) to take me back. All those people are used to my name and I don't have to explain anything. I've been trying new jobs and I have to go through the whole, "yeah, my mom is a hippy and wanted me to be quiet" spiel. You get a lot of questions and jokes and stupid stuff when you have a weird name. So I started using the name, Mary when I was annoyed with all that. I'm currently really mad at a woman named Mary. Like, were I to see her in the grocery store or elsewhere, I would punch her in the face. She's the only person on this planet that I could see myself punching in the face. I've never punched anybody. I fucking cry when I have to kill flies in my garage. But I would punch the fuck out of her. Anyway. I've been craving pizza today. I can normally just throw something together from what I have in my fridge. But I've been frugal lately. I'm trying to use up all the stuff I have in the fridge, freezer and cupboards so I can start clean without waste. So. I have no cheese. And I really want pizza. So I got cheap takeout. And I'm so absolutely spent with all of this stuff...a missing cat, no job, sick mother, life in disaster, that I couldn't even muster the energy to say my name because I didn't feel like being congenial and peppy and explaining how I got my name. So, the pizza is probably ready down the street under the name of Mary. And I'll probably have a rage when I say the name out loud.
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