Posts Tagged ‘life’

What if?

“What if”
Written by:
Wendi Friend

What if…
the power most often referred to as “God”
were actually a pregnant woman
called “Mother Nature”,
Her womb called Earth,
the fetus – humanity

What if…
we have not yet become
what we were conceived to be –
and may,
through lack of regard for consequence,
abort ourselves
before such beauty
is ever given life?

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Friday… can I get an Amen? *grins*

It’s the one day off I have this week, then it’s back to the grind until Thursday of next week. I’m trying to tweak my schedule at work to allow for a bit more me time. Until now, I’ve been working mids, which falls somewhere along the lines of 11 a.m. – 7 p.m., but that’s just on paper. What that translates to is up at six a.m. for some coffee thoughts and Wendi wonderings, in the shower by 8, leave the house by 9:30 a.m. – Why leave at 9:30 if I’m not due in ’til 11? Elementary, my dear Watson… I live 40 miles from where I work, so it takes roughly an hour, not counting any quick stops for breakfast, smokes, or fuel. The out-time on the schedule says 7 p.m., but that’s a bold-faced lie. I’m not even sure why they put out times on the schedule, really. An out-time of 7 p.m. usually means 8:30 or 9 p.m. – and even then, that just means I stop taking orders at tables and start doing sidework, which can take another full hour. Add another hour (+) for the ride home, and I’ve been getting home somewhere around 10 or 11 p.m. – just in time to crash and do it all over again.

Work is tense right now for a few good reasons. First and foremost, the air conditioning is out. Employees are all sweating their faces off (literally in some of the female cases), guests are complaining, and I feel like a ball-park-frank… ya know “they plump when ya cook ’em”. Secondly, with fuel prices and cost of living escalating the way it has, people, in general, are not tipping the way they used to, if they tip at all. I’ve discussed this with the other servers… we’re all feeling the pinch. We get stiffed by about 1 in 3 tables, and the tips in general have declined almost by half. This makes the $2.13 hourly wage of servers even more intollerable, and some of the servers are getting hostile. We’re spending more, earning less – and there really doesn’t seem to be any way to break that cycle other than looking for a new job (of which there are none and for which many of us aren’t qualified), or increasing the number of hours we work (which I’ve done)… keeping in mind that we’re not allowed to excede those precious 40. No overtime.

It used to cost me about 40 bucks to fill Pixie Dust (the Jeep Wrangler) with her chemical cocktail diet, now it costs me around 60 bucks. Now let’s take another look at this situation. I drive 40 miles to work, spend at least ten hours doing what I do, earning what I can – which, on most days now, is averaging about sixty bucks. Hmmm. It’s another 40 mile drive home and there’s only about quarter tank of gas. Fill up on the way home. That equates to: Drive to work to earn the money to fuel the car to drive to work. Hell, I could have stayed home and broke even AND stayed in my pajamas… but I’ve got those 32 hours weekly to maintain in order to qualify for the insurance. Defeated… DRAT!

Being that costs are increasing and income is decreasing, I’m a good couple of months behind in the necessities – bills are past due, shut off notices are coming in – and, oh, yeah… the kids were sure hoping they’d be able to EAT THIS WEEK! *LOL* – What to do? Take a deep breath, exhale, and try not to panic. Stressing over it isn’t going to fix it. Just keep plugging away in that endless cycle until something changes.

Something’s changing. I’ve got an appointment today at 3 p.m. with a lender about getting pre-approved for a home loan. The ex, bless his heart, wants to buy this house – and I’d love to live closer to town. Here’s the history.

Just as we got married four years ago, I did an outstanding deal with real estate in Vegas. We bought a house, I worked hard at re-shaping it (i.e., cleaning, painting, buffing, polishing, repairing, landscaping, etc.), and made a perty penny on it when we sold it three months later. The ex, reitiring from the Air Force, wanted to leave Las Vegas and move anywhere else. He asked me where I wanted to go.

Stay with me here….

Four years earlier, I’d had a powerful dream about the number 15 that stuck with me on a major scale. When he asked where I wanted to move (“Pick anywhere in the U.S.!), I asked, “What’s the fifteenth state admitted to the Union?” And here we are in Kentucky, paid for by yours truly with funds from that real-estate deal.

Granted, we bought that house together and sold it together, but while he was working his day job, I was re-creating that house to make it worthy of resale and he credits me with doing just that. Therefore, I paid for the Uhaul, the gas for the road trip, the travel trailer we lived in for the first 30 (ish) days, the campground we stayed at until we found a house to buy (this house!), the food we ate, the hotels we stopped at along the way, and then bought this house with cold hard cash. Paid in full – no mortgage! Go me! Of course, the military kicked in a bit after the fact, but their contributions were promptly spent on the debt of the ex (of which I really knew nothing prior to the “I do” part of the process… Duh, me!).

During the three years we lived in this house together, we were meant to be fixing it up… that was part of the whole “fixer-upper” purchase agreement. However, we quickly learned that his idea of “fixing” and my idea of “fixing” differed greatly. God bless the man, he’s got a heart of gold and the best of intentions. I’d say: “Gee, I wish we had a door leading to the laundry room.” He’d then fire up a power saw. Granted, I got the entry to the laundry room… but it’s far from being a “door”. It’s a hole in the wall, really – unfinished, unsanded… a raw hole. The same thing happened to the master bedroom when I suggested a dog door. Power saw + master bedroom = Wendi sleeps on the couch, now.

At any rate, the house is in such a condition that it’s really beyond my means to fix… financially and regarding know how. I can change a light-bulb, no problem. I can switch a shower head. I can clean and paint (well, kinda on the painting). That’s about the extent of my “repair” abilities. I’ve lived here for a year on my own with my kids since the divorce – and between the damage to the house itself and the distance I have to travel to reach civilization, it’s not managable for me anymore – and God bless the ex, he wants it – and is willing to buy it. He’s been pre-approved for his loan, and now it’s my turn.

I got the call on Monday that his loan was approved and I had the go ahead to seek mine. However, the moon was in her fourth quarter Tuesday and that’s just bad mojo. Could have called Wednesday when the moon shifted into her first quarter, but the moon was void-of-course on Wednesday – bad for starting new projects, or getting results that differ greatly from what was envisioned. Thursday was my day… moon first quarter waxing, not void-of-course, and Thursday is governed by Jupiter, the day for luck, numbers, and – you guessed it – MONEY! I placed the call Thursday morning and had a call-back by Thursday afternoon to set up today’s appointment – bring in documentation of funds.

But before I can hit that three o’clock magick in the making, I have to run a few other errands. Stinkerbelle and I both need our prescriptions filled (In Leitchfield, 17 miles away), then go to the bank (in Brownsville, 20 miles away in the opposite direction), and we need a few things from the ever-loving Dollar General store… shampoo, conditioner, toothpaste, bodywash, deoderant, razors, paper towels…. you know, all those things we’ve run out of (or come close to running out of) that I was too tired or too broke to stop after work to pick up. Oh, and a shower head… the kids busted the shower trying to bathe the dogs the other day ’cause the air conditioner unit at the house is also on the fritz (and I can’t afford to have it fixed just yet).

After errands and meetings, there are those domestic duties I’ve not had time for… do the laundry, iron uniforms, do the kids’ chores (for real, I mean). The kids have their chores – do this while I’m at work. They’re not hard chores and the kids are teens, so it’s not rocket science. But the kids have this half ass view of the world at present and their idea of clean and my idea of clean differ greatly. Of course, I try not to be too hard on them ’cause the air is broke so it’s hotter than hell in the house, and we’re kind of skimping by in the grocery department (no one’s starving, but a lot is left to be desired). So, I over-compensate and don’t ride them the way I should about pulling their fair share around the house.

Because the donkeys were hee-hawing all night (yeah, donkeys are my closest neighbors!), echoed by coyote howls and cries, accompanied by the dog scratching himself every five minutes (heat rash), coupled with the over-bearing heat and the fact that I sleep on the sofa, I didn’t sleep all that well last night. I dreamed weird, but I’ve lost the dreams at this point – can’t remember. Allowed myself to sleep in, which translates to 8 o’clock, and here I am trying to find my thoughts before the day begins.

I’d had hopes of completing June’s Enchantmonths article prior to today, but the hours at work were such that I didn’t have time for much outside of the minimal research I did accomplish – but I’ve decided not to berate myself for that lack of creative productivity. I’m doing what I can do and I’m doing the best I can. In the mean time, I’m still transferring my older writings from my scattered folders and sources to their new home here – and I am very much enjoying that process.

That being said, my free-time is up. I’d like to transfer a few more of those old writings before I set out for the day, must see to it that the dogs get walked (and hosed down!), the documents organized for my meeting, the deposit for the bank prepared, the prescriptions tucked into my purse, a quick shower (without the shower head!), and then off to the races.

In spite of the trials and tribulations, Life is good.



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