Friday, September 18, 2009

like leaving an abusive relationship

I quit. Sunday is my last day and I'm training my replacement for the next three days. I'm not proud of myself for quitting early, but I had to do it. The other day I was on an errand... driving... and I almost hit someone. They were surprisingly calm about the whole thing -- which was a pleasant surprise. No honk, no fingers flipped just an understanding nod when I mouthed that I was so terribly sorry and they drove on.

I just baked another loaf of cinnamon-chocolate chip-banana bread and I'm going to tuck in. From Monday fitness is my job again... I can't believe that over the last year I've let myself fall into such a state of FAT and unhealthy (I've gained at least 15 pounds from where I was last September). My motivation is that I'm seeing a friend I haven't seen in a few years at the end of the month -- I was a good 25 pounds lighter when he last saw me, so I don't want to disappoint too much. I'm not hoping for a miracle, not aiming for skinny jeans... just that I'd like for my ass to stop moving when the rest of me does. That's not setting the bar too high, right?

My lovely cat is sleeping at my feet here on the couch and I really don't want to go to work, but it's just three more days... six more shows. I've put up with much worse so I can do this.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

ernie of the day

and a monster, too!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

huge sigh of relief

I woke up before my alarm this morning; I was having stress dreams about "work." I just feel sick about this temp job because it's so unsatisfying: the women who run the wardrobe department for this particular production are not friendly... the work is physically exhausting and my compensation? Babysitters earn more per hour than I do. I could go into detail about how the touring crew and daytime temps have been bitchy, but then I sound like a whinger... they're "nice" enough, but not friendly. It's a fine line.

I've been struggling with the decision to quit early (I've already decided not to work the 7th week of the production; when I accepted the job I was told it would be a 6-week run and even when I realized that it would be a week longer, I decided not to complete the full run and take a trip to Taos the first weekend of October). Sunday was an atypical day: it started out great (as great as can be expected) as I get along with all of the artists I deal with directly and a few that are just friendly and chat when we're all hanging around waiting for our cues. Friends came to the show and one of the musicians was kind enough to bring them backstage after to say hi... that's when things got a little weird. On the last day of the week everyone is exhausted. We're all looking forward to our one day off for the week and I think that I was being a bit hypersensitive when the musician snapped at me and then no less than five minutes later, my colleague made a snippy remark. I'm less stressed out about Alexis, my colleague, than Mimi, the musician. To cover my ass I sent a text to Alexis Sunday night apologizing for "slacking" while my friends where visiting... and then thought up a scheme to set things right with Mimi: a thank you note and a cupcake. I don't owe this woman anything, really... she did me a favor for me doing her a favor; she snapped at me and is probably over it and yet... I feel I owe her a damn thank you and a cupcake. This isn't the straw that broke the camel's back, because my back was broken on the 2nd day.

So I don't want to go back today or ever. But I will. I will buy a bloody cupcake on the way in and I'll leave it at her dressing table and she probably won't even notice. She probably doesn't eat sweets because the pressure to be thin there, amidst the pre-pubescent acrobats, is very high. I'll stay the remaining two weeks that I've set for myself... to fulfill the bargain I've made with myself and I'll be miserable the entire time. But this is where I had a pleasant surprise today. All morning I've been dreading going in to work... 3:30pm comes too early when you really don't want to leave the house... but today is a single-show day! My call time is 7:30pm. Thank god.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

ernie of the day

Awwww... my little bug!

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

what's new, pussycat?

Not much, really. My life has become monotonous: work, sleep, eat, work, sleep, eat. I hate my temp job at the Circus so much that it's making me fat... I should be losing weight, but I'm practically a cripple when I get home (from the standing on my feet... and the kneeling on my knees... and from being attacked by highwires and the like). This is what happened the other night:A fan attacked me... no, not a rabid, Cirque-loving fool, just an electrical floor fan. We have loads of laundry to do each night after the last show and it's all air-dried. I was moving the fans about -- because my colleague is about as big as my pinkie (she's tall, but one would say she's quite lithe... I say she's a skinny bitch and while I want to hate her, she's actually very nice. Urgh.) so I try to move the fans every night. I know that picture doesn't look very bad... but believe me, it hurts like a mother and now I have a hole in my pinkie, dear Liza, dear Liza. I didn't need stitches, but I'm sure I'll have a divit in my pinkie for a while after it's healed... yay! a souvenir from my time working my ass off for no money. Every time I look at my pinkie I'll have to try harder... I'll have to remember these days where I'm getting beaten up by a temp job and I'll just have to set my sights higher... or quit before I get too vested.

What else? I made a gorgeous cinammon chocolate-chip banana bread today. Yes, really. It almost sounds like it won't work, and the recipe has seemingly too few ingredients, but the thing is delicious! I'm happy that the weather is cooling a bit and baking is coming back into fashion at Chez A. I've also been living off of slow-cooker food. I feel 20% domestic; it's the little time in my week when I'm awake and at home and not kvetching about "work." I'm happy to be domestic... and so I wonder, would it behove me to take a baking class at some point? If you are to follow your passion, does mine lay in baked goods and fat pants? I'll have to think about this some more when I've had a good sleep.

ernie of the day

aka: Stuff on my cat:

... and then there's this. He drags this string around with him everywhere. It's cute and pathetic, in a sad clown kind of way. I think we both need therapy.