| | So a couple of nights ago, 4am, I woke up to a loud noise that sounded like an explosion, and the feeling that my bed had just been dropped on the floor. It was terrifying, probably more than if I would have been awake at the time. But because I was sleeping, I woke up panicked and couldn't think logically. I got out of bed and walked around my whole apartment looking at everything, half asleep, I guess just checking that everything was okay. I completely convinced myself that I was having a bad dream, and walked back to bed. But then I realized Lola was freaking out too, hiding under my bed. So I figured it was probably a loud truck or something.
When I woke up for work, mom called to tell me she heard there was an earthquake in Roanoke! Unbelievable. For some reason the whole thing is really disturbing to me. There was no damage, and people are done talking about it. It's actually kind of a joke now. Most people didn't even feel it. (The epicenter was probably my apartment.) But man, it really messed with me. It's something I never imagined I would feel. The ground isn't supposed to move or drop suddenly, it's the ground! Does that sound crazy?
Speaking of crazy, the hag next door and I have made up. We didn't hug it out or anything, but she knocked on my door, handed me a catnip plant, grunted a little and coughed up some smoke. It was a nice gesture, and Lola would probably thank her if she did anything but lurk in dark corners and stare.
Work is alright, I'm doing pretty well at it still. Sometimes it sucks a lot, but it's worth the money. I got yelled at by a customer yesterday, but she was a mean old bitch and that isn't my problem. It's her family's. There are a lot of mean old bitches in this town, and if I ever see them outside of work I am going to trip them and run.
Most of the time I'm exhausted by the kids. I spend hours each day making fart noises, jumping around, chasing kids, telling really bad jokes, making ridiculous faces, and tickling babies with stuffed animals. I've lost a lot of weight. I wipe drool, I get spit up on, and both my pants and my shoes have been peed on. Oh, and I have to smile about it. And then the parents call corporate and complain about bad customer service.
I actually didn't like kids at all before this job, but now they're the best part. I moved to a city by myself, I have no friends, and all I do is work and pay bills. I'd give anything to be 5 again and not have to worry about so many things. So when I get to play with the kids, I feel a little bit better. At least they aren't passive aggressive. And maybe little D' Shawn drools in my hair, but when I get to make him laugh, and he reaches his hands out for me to pick him up-- that's worth it. Maybe I just want to be appreciated.
Today I went furniture shopping. The woman helping me, Dot, was really nice and funny. We found a cute sofa and an ottoman that I really liked, and I decided to buy them. She asked me to sit down with her, so I did, and she said something that made my entire day, "I am so proud of you." It surprised me a little, because she doesn't know me at all, so I asked why. She said, "You moved here alone for a job, you have your own place, you're picking out your own furniture. And when I asked you if you wanted to buy them, you said yes without calling your parents or boyfriend for permission. There aren't enough independent young women like you."
I got broken up with yesterday. I was crushed. Dot made me feel better than I thought was possible.
Thanks, Dot.
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| | Posted 5/18/2009 1:48 PM - 12 Views - 0 eProps - 0 comments
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