i honestly don't know how some bloggers post more than once a day. aren't you out there, living life?
i sure as fuck am.
in fact, i'm using my day off
to experience a myriad of san francisco's little idiosyncrasies. including, presently sitting in a cafe with a glass of white wine and my laptop, next to a trio of asian men drinking cappuccinos and having an expressive, gestural, enthusiastic conversation with each other.
to my right is a lesbian couple with a very obedient pit bull.
todays been nothing short of surreal. allow me the luxury:
lately, work has been absolute, utter, unequivocal TORTURE. an ex-friend/co-worker was fired, and sensing the 'ex' part, all eyes turned to me. not to mention that my bosses decided i'd be better at her customer service job than her, so that i was forced to step away from cheese, into her position, and right into the middle of the evil stares. i lost track of the number of times i got the cold shoulder or the stink eye this week.
new fact: it is very nearly impossible to give great customer service when your co-workers are ostracizing you to the point of tears. "is there anything i can help you with" feels so trite, and miles away from what i really want to say, which is "please tell my co-workers i had nothing to do with (ex-employee) being fired and its not my fault she lied and stole and cheated! please make them understand!"
its suspicious that the bosses made me take over what they dubbed a 'unique blend between cheese expert and customer service' just before they hired two new people: one for cheese, one for customer service. where does that leave me?
not to mention that my direct manager has begun to feel threatened by my developing skill and expertise, and has to decided to embrace the new inexperienced cheese employee instead.
i couldnt win.
then, i was asked to train the two new kids (my replacements, i presume).
i was so stressed.
i was having nightmares.
i was having chest pains.
i was sinking, fast.
my response:
i had another anxiety attack. this one was a doozy. you see, i was driving. on the freeway. far from either home or work. in the middle of rush hour.
and i was so blinded by panic and fear and tears and hyperventilation that i couldnt even see straight, much less drive straight. i almost side-swiped a car, who honked incessantly and then proceeded to tail me and flash their fog lights into my rear view, all while i was still mid-attack. it was a nightmare.
petrified, i tried to draw from past experience and phone my mother for help. she was too busy texting me that she 'didnt need my drama' to answer my numerous calls. i left her a message.
desperate, i called my dad. i didnt know what else to do. i didnt even think to call my therapist, i dunno why. maybe cos i was scared as opposed to confused. my dad did answer and talked me down and instructed me off of the freeway and gave me breathing directions. (his calm response to my sheer panic lets me know that this is all same-shit-different-day for a man who spent 30 yrs married to my mother.)
i still havent heard from my mom.
so, today. i woke up knowing i couldnt go on like this. acknowledgement of that fact led me straight into a chain of events unlike no other that san francisco can offer.
stopping by the post-office to retrieve a blog-giveaway prize of a bag of chia seeds (i know its random, but in addition to my wine, coffee and gum addictions, i am also quite the health nut), i disoriented myself and ended up taking the long way to my school's financial aid office, where i had to drop off overdue paperwork. this unexpectedly longer path led me through the *heart* of my beloved city, and i found myself ACHING to feel like an integral part of its *beat* again. in those moments, i felt like i missed my city with every fiber of my battered being. my whole summer has been nothing but work, cutting and wrapping cheese, and commuting, leaving my days off to attempt to recover enough energy to keep my house and my Self clean. i missed frolicking through the downtown streets. i missed prancing from swanky club to dive bar to burrito joint all in one outfit. i yearned. so i sighed.
once parked in front of my school, i decided to drop off my resume to the next-door cafe that was hiring counter help. so did someone else, who glared at me on her way out. i shyly handed my stapled credentials to the cashiering gal, and she told me to wait ten minutes, when i could meet the manager. too anxious for coffee but craving comfort in the nerve-wracking anticipation, i purchased a small decaf and sat down to browse through the brochures i had absent-mindedly picked up from my school's office. the booklets where all about student housing, and lo and behold, they have special graduate-student-only apartments. hmmm, i had never thought about it before. i could live closer to school, with fellow student artists, be more a part of the community....
next thing i know, the manager calls my name. i hand her my resume and answer her that yes, i am a student down the street. i humbly tell her that i've been working with food lately and that i'm eager to leave my current job and i think i'd be a good fit at this cafe. she smiled, nodded excitedly and said, "i think so too. lets hire you and get you started. can you sign the paperwork tomorrow?" that was it. i've another job. i was hired on the spot, and i start monday. my last thought was, 'well that was easy'.
of course, on my way out, i spilled my decaf all down my pants.
anyway, finally looking around enough to notice i was in brenda's neighborhood, we met up for some spontaneous (and very girly) shopping. which for us means trying on betsey johnson dresses and shoes we could never afford and having them set aside my future wedding dress and shoes for purchase later today (as if).
then we went to macys and bought shirts on sale.
now i sit watching boys walk in with their messenger bags and share a couch with old ladies in layers of beads drinking snapple.
i fucking love my city.
i'm back:)
current mood: content.
current music: the velvet underground - i'm sticking with you.
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