Yes, I know my life could be worse, and I know many other people have much more to complain about than me, but according to a friend, blogs are about self-absorbed people, so this is all about ME, ME, ME!!
Remember when you were a kid, and all you wanted to do was grow up and be an adult? WHAT THE HELL WERE WE THINKING?? Being an adult is like being on a lifetime rollercoaster ride. The climb to the top is very long and very slow, and once you are there, you can't stay there. You have to tumble down, and the ride down is very fast.
Here's the Cliff's Notes version of my adulthood. (I wish I could chart the ups and downs for you, but I think you'll be able to tell just from the text).
Graduate high school. Meet Travis (the ex-husband). Move into Dancer Hall at UNI. Series of part time jobs through college. Transfer to Arizona State University my junior year, only to come back because they said everything would transfer and it didn't. I would've basically been starting over as a freshman, with no guarantee I would be accepted to their design program in two years. Graduate from UNI with a really crappy grade point, get married, and move to Des Moines, all in the summer of 1998. Can't find a full time job for 6 months. Get a job, get pregnant, lose job. Work 3 part time jobs while 9 months pregnant. Have Jake. 8 week unpaid maternity leave. Come back to one of the jobs as full time designer. Buy a new car. Buy a new townhouse. Total car in accident and lose job before the ink dries on the townhouse. Get a new (used) car. Get a new job. Find out new job will be straight commission after 6 months. Literally start losing hair. Get new job. Get pregnant. Have Tyler. 8 weeks unpaid maternity leave. Come back for a month and then lose job. Work for a temp agency. Find dream job as a territory sales rep. Sell new (used) car and drive a company van. All expenses paid. Company starts messing around with territories and brands and suddenly there isn't much left to do. Look for new job. Find new job, but with a major pay cut. Find new (used) car since there is no company van or paid expenses. Things with Travis fall apart. File for bankruptcy. Move out of townhouse. Once bankruptcy is final, realize that life would be better single. Move into a duplex. Have a relationship with a total cretin. End that. Start online dating. Find great stories for future book because most of those guys are WEIRD. Rent goes up, twice. Find a great townhouse to share with best friend. Divorce is finalized. Re-meet Eric and wonder what life would've been had this happened in high school. Find another dream job as a furniture rep. Life is good. Then...fight with the ex over child custody because a move to Cedar Falls is necessary. Lose job (again!).
So life is in limbo. I'm in CF when I don't have the kids, and DM when I do. Job prospects are grim, and where do I look since I live in 2 places?
But I digress. I have 2 adorable little boys (who drive me absolutely nuts). I have a great relationship with a GREAT guy. I have unemployment for the first time in my life to help get me through.
I guess things aren't so bad afterall.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The Wacky Waitress
Eric and I planned a night out with our friends Tom and Tara. All we knew was that we were going to go bowling. We needed to figure out where to eat. As we headed out to Crossroads, we all piped up about what we didn't want.
"No Mexican."
"No sushi."
"I just had seafood last night."
We decided on stardard American fare.
Tara suggested "Southtown", a restaurant she had heard of out by the mall. We walked in and got the typical those-aren't-regulars-staredown. We were told by a waitress to go ahead and pick a booth.
We chose the wrong booth.
A different waitress comes over, and looks, honestly, a little stoned. She asks how we're doing, we all say "great" and ask her back politely, to which she responded, "I could really use a cigarette. But don't tell the bosses. They're right over there. I'm about to be fired."
Well. Ok then.
She then asks for our drink orders.
Tara and I wanted water, and the boys wanted beer. She asked Eric if he wanted a draw, a bottle, or a frosty mug. He replied "draw" and she said, "Frosty mug is better." Then she asked Tom for his I.D. He's 38 (he does look younger than that, but not 21-sorry Tom!). So, apparently, was the waitress, though she looked A LOT older than he does. She brought them their frosty mugs.
Eric asked what the soups were and she replied with, "I don't know." Tara then read them off to him from the "Specials" board that was by the front door. He then ordered "chili soup" which the waitress gave him crap about for the rest of the evening. "Everyone just calls it chili. And it's really bland here. Don't tell the bosses I said that."
Tara and Tom briefly discussed onion rings, but when the waitress came back, she asked if they wanted the onion rings, and they said no, they had decided against it. The waitress then said that she had already placed the order because she had been sure they were going to get them. "Don't tell the bosses though."
We ordered the rest of our food, our onion rings were delivered, and then we waited. And waited. And waited. The waitress came back and got the guys a couple more "frosty mugs" and and told us that she was so sorry, but she had forgotten to turn the tickets in. She had finally gotten her smoke break and while out, realized that she still had our orders in her pocket. She was very sorry. "Don't tell the bosses."
Tom said the beer tasted different this time around, and Eric turned to me halfway through his to announce that he was wasted. Off a beer and a half. I'm wondering if the crazy waitress slipped the guys something.
She brings the food, apologizes again. She clears our plates. Apologizes again. And at some point we are pretty sure we heard her say something about how she could use a beer.
We paid for our food and left. And though we should've, we didn't tell the bosses what a crappy waitress she was.
"No Mexican."
"No sushi."
"I just had seafood last night."
We decided on stardard American fare.
Tara suggested "Southtown", a restaurant she had heard of out by the mall. We walked in and got the typical those-aren't-regulars-staredown. We were told by a waitress to go ahead and pick a booth.
We chose the wrong booth.
A different waitress comes over, and looks, honestly, a little stoned. She asks how we're doing, we all say "great" and ask her back politely, to which she responded, "I could really use a cigarette. But don't tell the bosses. They're right over there. I'm about to be fired."
Well. Ok then.
She then asks for our drink orders.
Tara and I wanted water, and the boys wanted beer. She asked Eric if he wanted a draw, a bottle, or a frosty mug. He replied "draw" and she said, "Frosty mug is better." Then she asked Tom for his I.D. He's 38 (he does look younger than that, but not 21-sorry Tom!). So, apparently, was the waitress, though she looked A LOT older than he does. She brought them their frosty mugs.
Eric asked what the soups were and she replied with, "I don't know." Tara then read them off to him from the "Specials" board that was by the front door. He then ordered "chili soup" which the waitress gave him crap about for the rest of the evening. "Everyone just calls it chili. And it's really bland here. Don't tell the bosses I said that."
Tara and Tom briefly discussed onion rings, but when the waitress came back, she asked if they wanted the onion rings, and they said no, they had decided against it. The waitress then said that she had already placed the order because she had been sure they were going to get them. "Don't tell the bosses though."
We ordered the rest of our food, our onion rings were delivered, and then we waited. And waited. And waited. The waitress came back and got the guys a couple more "frosty mugs" and and told us that she was so sorry, but she had forgotten to turn the tickets in. She had finally gotten her smoke break and while out, realized that she still had our orders in her pocket. She was very sorry. "Don't tell the bosses."
Tom said the beer tasted different this time around, and Eric turned to me halfway through his to announce that he was wasted. Off a beer and a half. I'm wondering if the crazy waitress slipped the guys something.
She brings the food, apologizes again. She clears our plates. Apologizes again. And at some point we are pretty sure we heard her say something about how she could use a beer.
We paid for our food and left. And though we should've, we didn't tell the bosses what a crappy waitress she was.
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