Haiku Mondays... and a post from last week that I "forgot" about because it's depressing.

Working third shift sucks.

It makes my sleep time lonely.

But, no snores wake me.

:)

Speaking of work... I lost my second job. Like... six weeks ago. I haven't said anything about it because it sucks. And thinking about it makes my heart hurt a lot a little bit. 

So that house we were going to buy that I referenced in this post? Yeah, never mind about that.  No way that'll happen on one part-time income. I was crushed. 

I used the down payment money in my savings account to buy ice cream... and a scooter since gas is projected to soar over $5 a gallon this summer.

I mention it now because I have been spending a lot of time thinking about the future of our little family lately. 

James is |--this--| close to being locked in with the Air Force, we are having a wedding in September,  I have yet to finish my degree, and now we are one income down from where we are supposed to be. 

Random (but totally relevant) thing you probably don't know about me: I'm a super anxious, cynical, hyper-planner freak. I literally sit down and budget out my funds month by month for YEARS in advance. I know it makes very little sense. I rarely manage to stick to the budget for more than two months at a time because things come up. But it makes me feel better. Like I have a little more control over the direction of my life. 

I probably engage in this obsessive behavior 2 or 3 times a month. 

And right now I can't. 

Everything is too up in the air. I don't know what our financial situation will be next week, much less in three months. Now, I feel like I'm paddling my way through one of the biggest decisions of my life (marriage), completely blind. 

I second guess myself six times a day and it's getting to me. 

2nd Random (but totally relevant) thing you probably don't know about me: I'm an impulse shopper. If I have too much time to think about something I will, inevitably talk myself out of it. I have been known to go to three different tattoo shops to get my tattoo right now, this minute because if I have to make an appointment, I'll bail. 

Not to mention the fact that now I am only working part time so I have WAY too much time on my hands to spend thinking. 

I maintain that I don't need a full time job right now because I'm so busy planning for the wedding but... I'm really starting to think I'm just scared of putting myself into another job and getting fired.

I've never been fired before this, and let me just say something... I never, ever thought it would suck this bad. I can honestly say that even after a super rocky adolescence of depression and suicide attempts, I never felt this worthless.

It's kind of like the feeling of believing you're completely worthless and then finding out your belief was entirely justified. 

I'm over my angst-y, teenage, depression and I would never even dream of attempting suicide again, but I'm not going to lie... I spent three days straight in bed, crying and making James get me McDonalds and ice cream.

Now, six weeks after the fact,  I'm not feeling so worthless anymore. I'm kind of over it, I try to be all Christian and accept it as 'it wasn't meant to be' even though I don't believe in that... 

But, all of the sudden it's like I'm gun-shy. I find myself looking at job listings with leftover feelings of inadequacy. I don't even bother applying because I tell myself it's not worth getting my hopes up.  

And with so much else going on? It's easy to just add it to the list of things in my pot of worry-stew. 

Marriage?

Air Force?

Job?

Degree?

Chuck in some low self-esteem.

fat.

annoying.

lazy.

stupid.

And a dash of every day concerns.

Did the rent check go out?

Who fed the dogs?

Eye doctor appointment Thursday at 8:45

Where the heck is my cell phone!?

Viola! 

"I'll have another Kessler's and Coke please?"

Haiku Mondays...

I've woken up an hour late.

Five more minutes? Nope.

A hungry dog licks my face. 

If I won the lottery...

Top ten things I would do with the money in order:

l) Hire a really good financial planner.
2) Do whatever he tells me to do.
3) Pay off all of my debt.
3) Get health insurance.
4) Give a substantial amount to my immediate family members and charity
5) Buy a new car... a sensible one, that runs well and gets good gas mileage.
6) Buy a sports car... you know, for fun.
7) Buy a condo, with cash. (No more rent or mortgage!? Yes!)
8) Finish my degree
9) Move to Germany
10) Take lots of vacations with my family.

oh boy...

Creeping up from behind... sneek, sneek, sneek... SLAM!

Yup, I can't help it. I'm a total cynic. It's like I'm fine one moment and then, all of the sudden, I've screwed myself into a corner.

With my cynicism... screwdriver? ahem

 They say, "You are your own toughest critic". Now, I'd say that's pretty accurate.

So, taking that in to consideration... I'd say I have myself defeated before I even step out the door most days.

...

Sorry, no moral to this story yet. I guess it's a work in progress.

James goes to the Air Force today to determine the direction our life is going to take now.

It's been a hard days night...

I do believe I am the worlds worst paid babysitter...

No, really. I get paid minimum wage to babysit fully grown drunk people. All night long. I work the grave yard shift at a fairly popular "Family" hotel chain. Well, when you live in Wisconsin, "Family" means -Lets all get drunk and watch our kids try to drown each other in the pool! And amazingly the unsupervised children are far better behaved than their inebriated parents. Or at least they have a little respect.

Now, I've been working in the hotel industry since I graduated from high school... so, going on five years now. This is my fourth hotel. I can guarantee you I'm used to being treated like a hologram. Like some sort of automated ticket machine at the airport. I never hear the word "please" from adults and very rarely do I hear "Thank you".

"But, Rachael!" -you say, "You're being paid to do it, it's your job!"

You're right it is my job. I get paid a pittance, not even enough to pay my monthly bills, to be a servant to the whims of hotel patrons with 3,875,610,984,592 membership points. Although, I don't quite understand how getting paid to do your bidding equates to you also having the right to treat me like a sub-class of human being.

I see this more and more often.

For whatever reason, people who don't work in service jobs feel some sort of entitlement to treat those in the field of service like dirt.

This drives me crazy.

 Like for whatever reason the fact that I'm out here, working my ass off, through a college degree, below the poverty line, refusing to accept food stamps, in a menial service position makes it okay for you to grind me down even further because of your own personal success. Do you spit on the homeless and laugh at the handicapped too? Or is it just those of us in the service industry you target for your own selfish pat-on-the-back displays?

Normally, I can handle that. I'm pretty well used to it by now. Fine so you think you're better than me. You  had a crappy service job 10,000 years ago and everyone treated you like shit too. BUT you've risen above it! Now, you have earned the right to treat me like crap as well.

I get it.

Whatever.

My biggest problem is being an adult babysitter. You know what I'm talking about. Like, when you and your friends think it'd be funny to race up and down the hall ways? At three o'clock in the morning?  And you're 32? And you're on the second floor? And you each way over 150lbs? And I have to ask you 2+ times to knock it off?

You know how when your kids do something naughty they might get three strikes?

Well, guess what!? YOU'RE ADULTS Learn how to behave like it. I am not your mother. I am not nearly as nice as she was. If you continue to act like children I will have to deal with you in a way you will not like. I might even have to ask you to leave. Yes, I have the authority to do that. No, I'm not afraid to use that authority. And if you choose to argue with me, I will call the police. And you can tell your sorry little excuses to the nice officer who is here to escort you out of the building. No, you will not receive a refund. DO NOT EXPECT ONE. Naughty children do not get a replacement toy for the one they just foolishly broke.

I haven't got nearly the patience for it, and I am sorely underpaid to put up with your crap. There are probably 100 other guests in this hotel (who are capable of behaving themselves I might add) and you happen to be negatively effecting their stay. It is my job to correct that. I have no pity for you. I don't care who hit who first. All I care about is that it stops right now. And does not start again. If that can be achieved in one "talking-to" then we wont have a problem. No hard feelings, I'm not going to hold a grudge. We can move past it. However, if I have to ask you yet again to act like an adult you will not like the consequences.

Which brings us to tonight, and let me tell you, it's shaping up to be a real winner...

6 room noise complaints - for the same room...
5 drunken assholes throwing beer cans from their pool view balconies down into the pool area...
4 drunk women swimming after hours in their clothing...
3 complaints from the bar about guests behaving badly...
2 drunk idiots fighting in the parking lot...
and 1 old women who has requested I bring something to her room 4 separate times with never once a please or thank you.

So, please dear friends. I beg of you. Next time you're out and about and you happen to come in contact with someone in the service industry, think about this post.

Think about how they have families at home too .

Think about how they are just people, deserving of respect and understanding.

Think about how they probably put up with pretentious jerks all day, everyday and you being nice to them might just make their whole week a little bit brighter.

Think about the golden rule.

Think about Barney for all I care.

But please treat them with respect, and thank them honestly for the job they do.

 because we're all just doing the best we can

*Let me add that when asking guests to play nice the situation rarely escalates to the point where I have to call the police. *