There are No Winter Wonderlands

You know what sucks?  Every season that isn’t summer.  Over the course of the last year I was very adamant about moving South.  And once the time to do so got closer, I started making up excuses about why I didn’t want to leave – one of which was not wanting to miss out on all four of the beautiful changing seasons.

Once I did decide to stay, we were thrown into the most mild of winters ever.  It was 70 degrees on Christmas Day.  There was no precipitation in the forecast.  And all I could think was ‘Gosh this is a bummer – where is the winter!’

Well, last week we got snow.  And cold.  And clouds.  And we plummeted deep into the heart of sad, sick, winter depression.

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This sucks.  I’ve been in a bad mood for a straight week.  Darcy won’t go in the snow and when she does she eats the salt and then throws up all day.  I have more bruises from falling than a battered piece of fruit.  I’ve spent half my life savings on Uber surge fees and more hours than I can count sitting in traffic and listening to cars slam on their horns due to Philadelphia’s aversion to plowing their streets.

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Nothing good comes from the snow.  You’re pale.  Your Uggs get ruined.  You’re cold.  Who ever wants to be cold?  Winter drinks are like – White Russians and Hot Toddys.  The summer is filled with sunshine and margaritas and happiness and baseball.  You know what sports the winter has after football season?  Me neither – because hockey is boring.

I’ll leave you with this.  The most amusement to come out of a blizzard.  Here’s hoping again that PETA hasn’t figured me out yet…

She was less than thrilled.

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Penny Pinching for Puppies

Once during an interview a few months ago, someone asked me why I got up every morning to go to work.  I think during the time I was trying to convince him that I truly loved and felt fulfilled with my work and was now looking for a new growth opportunity when in fact I had just left and was actually suffering from serious corporate America PTSD and couldn’t have cared less if he hired me or not.

It was a really difficult question to answer – it was a difficult question to even lie about.  Why does anyone go to work other than to get paid?  If you were told you could be paid to lay on a beach with your dog and a plethora of great books and swarms of gorgeous tanned men who walk by in fifteen minute intervals to tell you how beautiful you look or offer to reapply your sunscreen, and take your margarita order, would you sit in an office or try to sweet talk someone into buying computer software?  I don’t think so…

Over time (the last 20 minutes) I have come up with the following list of answers, many of which wouldn’t be interview suitable:

  1. There is free food in the break room all the time and they don’t pay me enough to eat and I’m hungry a lot
  2. I’m having an affair with someone a couple of cubicals down from me and I love the game
  3. I am the boss and I love to watch people fear how much they love me
  4. My job is super easy and I like feeling smart
  5. No one pays attention to what I do while I’m there so I use the time to catch up on my shows
  6. I have rap battles with the guys in the mail room and I’m so close to winning one of them
  7. I can access my 401(k) in a short 11,315 days and I want to watch it grow until then
  8. I can’t stand being at home with my kids because they remind me too much of my significant other and I only married them because he/she was rich and I didn’t want to have to work
  9. I wouldn’t survive a day on the streets
  10. I don’t want to work but I’m saving up to buy drums that I can bang on all day

I think I used my Public Relations background to respond with words like “the rush” and “the thrill” to make my job sound incredible.  If he believed me I’m disappointed in him because on the inside I was counting down the days until I left on vacation.  But really, other than a pay check and the financial sustainability aspect of it all, why does anyone go to work?  You could have hobbies, you could volunteer, you could have kids to take care of, this isn’t to say anyone should just be sitting at home – you can be successful in other ways.  If you love your job, more power to you – I am beyond jealous.  But why do you love it?  It’s a deep question – why do you go out and do what you do all day long for the vast majority of your life.  If it’s more than that – I’d love to know.

My parents got me this, ironically right after I entered into retirement.  I love it. Mainly because now that I’m leaving for work at random hours and sometimes more than once a day, my dog is furious about it.  But I think it suits me!

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And otherwise neither of us are going to eat.  She is getting better and better at giving me disapproving looks. For example, the other day, when she tried to hide in the messiest part of my closet so I couldn’t find her and then stared at me like this…

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Next job requirements: Dog Friendly Office…

So Much Sacred in the Month of June

I’m in a great mood this morning.  I don’t know exactly why.  Maybe it’s because my sweatshirt smells like sun screen.  Maybe it’s because of how precious my dog was as she tried to keep her eyes open when I took her out before work.  Maybe I’m delusional from only getting four hours of sleep?  Maybe it was the awesome girls training me last night who secretly tipped me, or the super sweet note the girl before me at the gym left.  Maybe it’s because my current responsibilities include wearing work out clothes and listening to Britney Spears Pandora. Maybe it’s because the Phillies beat the Yankees. Who knows?  But it’s nice to be happy about waking up in the morning.  Being happy is fantastic. IMG_5188 I love the month of June.  It’s officially summer.  Days are longer.  You wake up to sunshine.  When you walk out of a building at night time the breeze is warmer than the inside you just left.  It’s almost my birthday.  I love birthdays.  There are beer gardens galore.  People are out and about.  I can bring Darcy with me almost everywhere.  And I love being with Darcy.

FullSizeRender Even if something happens in the next hour and today goes horribly wrong, I’m feeling sentimental about this moment. I feel at peace with this moment. It’s a long lost feeling that we need to take a step back and recognize more often.

This is one of my favorite songs of all time.  I think it’s perfect for today.  Enjoy – I’ll be listening to it on repeat.

Real World Blog Slacker

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!!!!

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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Chew This – Not That!

For reasons that I’ll address in length tomorrow, I spent a lot of time in bed today doing things like reading (read: sleeping) and scouring the internet for job ideas and life paths (read: watching YouTube videos.)

IMG_5353I am sorry if I post too much about my dog (I’m not, I’m reallllly not) but I just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to share this video with my favorite followers (yes, that’s you!) and those pet lovers who may stumble across my online repository of thoughts…

Why is it so hysterical when your dog is under your covers?  Why don’t they remember the things you JUST talked about?  How come my dog loves cheese but the internet says it’s going to kill her? Why did she have to roll around in the dog park today when I gave her a bath 24 hours before?! I’ve related to every moment of this at some point in the last year.

Enjoy!

No Regard for Personal Space

My dog is 12 pounds.  When she plays with bigger dogs or barks at the window washers, she thinks she’s 100 pounds.  When she wants to leap onto your lap or lay on top of you at night, she thinks she’s no pounds.

It is funny to watch because she really has no fear.  There was a massive dog in the dog park this morning who wanted nothing to do with her and was likely going to take her face off if we got any closer.  My self declared doberman was pulling with all of her might to get closer anyway.  Maybe she just doesn’t understand social queues.  Who knows?

Right now she’s mad at me and sulking under my comforter because she kept walking across my computer.  She does it for attention – at first I didn’t care, but then when she closed out of a 500 word post and now I can’t get the number 6 to work properly, I had to put my foot down and break it to her that her feather like demeanor is actually much heavier.

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Update: to prove my point…