I have been the worst blogger on the planet over the course of the last week. Being young and retired has rapidly changed in to not as young as I used to be, over tired, not even close to organized, moody, hungry, irrationally stressed, Darcy-neglecting, and somehow, still poor. My third book (since my first is going to be a memoir based on my blog and my second is going to be about my dating life called Mercury Poisoning) is going to be a comparison of working the standard 9-5 job in the corporate world versus working odd jobs around town which take up all of your time, all of your energy, are fast paced and exciting but require there to be more than one in order to make ends meet. (Fun fact – it was recently that I learned it isn’t ‘ends meat’ – like you would get the end of a cow or something… you’re welcome for that tid-bit.)
I’ve had my first taste of this other form of working for the last week, all of which came to fruition on Friday. I sent Darcy to camp dog wonderland, also known as my parents house, for a couple of days while I tried to figure out how to manage my new schedule. I feel the need to mention that so my massive PETA following doesn’t think she was caged up and unfed for three days since I spent about 2 full hours at home.
Back together and it feels so good!!!!
On Friday, I worked at my gym job from 5:30 AM until 2:30 PM. Afterwards, I went home, changed, and decided I should walk to my restaurant job. I left my house at 3:15 thinking I would get there early, and showed up at 3:52 for my 4:00 shift. Google Maps said it would take me 23 minutes. We also learned I’m the slowest walker along with worst blogger on the planet.
Everyone has been saying to me during this entire retirement period “just wait tables – you’ll make a ton of money.” Just wait tables. That statement seemed so easy. Well, this is an apology to any waiter/tress out there who I have ever underestimated. Waiting tables is difficult. You have to constantly be watching your customers. You always need to be moving around. You have to remember ridiculous orders. You have to recommend something to people who you know nothing about. I’m usually that patron too, asking brilliant questions like “What should I get?” to a complete stranger who couldn’t care less what you eat.
At first, I stood back and waited for direction. I’ve since been told the other servers don’t have time to give you direction so keep doing what needs to be done. I find myself so excited when I can answer a question that someone has that I forget what they ordered by the time I get back to the computer. I messed up an order on Friday night – I put in the wrong type of chicken wings. I was sent to the back to roll silverware and once the order was remedied the Chef yelled “Hey, New Girl – what table did you F*** up?!” Talk about a change from the corporate world. But It was okay. I did screw up and his response was scary and I’ll try not to screw up again. My boss at my old job would have smack talked me to the rest of my team all the while making my life a living hell and never discussing what the real problem was. So bring it, Scary Kitchen Guys.
I used to be really good at rolling silverware when I worked in a restaurant in college. Apparently that’s a skill that I’ve lost over time because someone told me I looked like I’ve never rolled a blunt before. And much to his surprise, I said in fact sir, I have not. Another person called me Fresh Meat all night. Deep down I was slightly flattered, but then realized that wasn’t actually a compliment on my appearance when he would bark as I walked by.
It’s amazing the difference of environment when you aren’t being over shadowed by an HR department.
The gym is entirely different. There are chipper women who show up before 6:00 AM every morning to get in their high cardio and sculpting classes before heading off to their day jobs or back home to nurse their babies. The entire place is filled with enthusiasm and positive energy. I even have the opportunity to work out with them now and then and the classes are up beat and encouraging. They drink green smoothies and spend full pay checks on week long cleanses and clean eating. No one is passive aggressive, no one is talking about you when you aren’t listening, no one is miserable.
They’re both difficult jobs. The gym because of the hours and the restaurant because of the tasks required. Do I plan to be at either for a long period of time? No – and maybe knowing it isn’t forever is what makes them so much more exciting. But I’m meeting new people, they’re both fast paced and fun and it’s a nice breath of fresh air from sitting in a cubical and wishing the building would blow up to put me out of my misery.