"There's no point in spending your life in the pursuit of something that's easy." - Alice Kuipers

Saturday, August 28, 2010

I'm Nervous

I can't believe it, but I only have two months left before I'm done with massage. I have to give my notice on Monday. I'm scared to death. What if I'm unable to earn enough money to pay my bills? What if my boss hates me?
The truth is, there are things about massage that I'm going to miss. My coworkers for example. They're all really nice, especially my absolute favourite. He's been my inspiration for the four years I've worked there. From the beginning he was always full of wonderful advice like, "if you don't like the elderly, don't treat them!" and "if someone pisses you off, kick them out! You don't have to take crap from anybody". Sigh, my hero.
My favourite memory (one I will always cherish) is the day he kicked out one of his own clients. Why? Well, the bitch came in while he was still dealing with another one of his clients and loudly proclaimed for all to hear,
"Oh by the way, you know that problem of mine you've been working on for two years? I went for a myofascial treatment and it's gone."
He politely nodded and smiled and finished dealing with his other client. Then, he took her into his treatment room and began to berate her for her rudeness. He asked her why she would feel the need to announce this in front of his other client, and, if she liked myofascial so much better what the hell was she doing here?
Her answer?
"Well, I couldn't get in there for two months."
His response?
"Yeah, well you aren't getting in here either."
And then he unceremoniously kicked her bitchy ass out. My hero!!
Yes, it's the fond memories like these that I will cherish when I'm gone. Who will be bitter and make sarcastic comments with me? Not to mention the delightfully short hours. I hope I'm not making a big mistake (as I so often do), but every time I think of staying the revulsion rises in my gut and I know it's not an option. So, onward and upward as they say. In two months I'll be gone.

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Writing Update

I thought it would be nice to let you know how my attempt at professional writing is going. The first draft of my book is done and now awaits a strenuous course of editing, I have my first possibility for a freelance writing job coming up in September and October for a sports magazine, and my suite101 career is... progressing. That's right. Read it and weep people, since the beginning of May I've made... $1.95.
Every month they publish the top ten earners for the past month (without names of course) and last month some lucky individual walked away with $2900. Sounds good right? So, to better equip myself and earn a larger amount of dough I looked into the owners of the top 100 page views for last month to see what was bringing in a lot of attention (and how many articles they had). Well, first of all they all had a staggering amount of articles - generally in the 700 range, and I noticed that all the authors had a general theme that their articles revolved around. What were these highly viewed authors writing about? The top writer wrote almost exclusively about anything and everything that had to do with college (which was funny because from her picture one can easily tell she's way too old to still be going there). The second wrote about everything in the world to do with pregnancy, babies and mommies. (Ick). The third - psychology, the fourth - dogs, and the fifth - cats. (At least we know that dogs did better than cats). I personally prefer to do book reviews, that way I don't have to constantly come up with new material. It's provided to me.
Well, that's where I stand right now. Obviously I'm not about to quit my day job. I'll update again soon, in the mean time - pray for me.
P.S. Don't you just love how my title works on two levels? It's an update about my writing, but I'm also writing an update. Get it? Well, I think its funny.

Friday, August 13, 2010

Each Morning I Wake Up...

I woke up this morning as I do many mornings, spooning my dog. Gradually I became aware that I was, in fact, awake and began asking myself those all important questions. Questions like, "what should I eat for breakfast?" and "where the hell is my husband?"
That's right. Nearly every morning for the past couple of months I've woken curled up around the dog with my husband long gone. The first time it happened I was obviously startled. I woke up that morning and turned over, reaching out to give my beloved husband an affectionate good morning kiss. The bed was empty. He was gone. When he came home later he informed me that he'd gotten up early to go to the gym. I was so hurt. Why hadn't he woken me up to say good bye? The answer? He did. Apparently, I'm one of those people that doesn't remember when they've been woken up. I really should have already been aware of this. After all, I take my birth control pill every morning at 6:00 AM and just roll over and go back to sleep. Half the time I wake up in a panic in the morning, positive that I slept through my alarm and didn't take it. Wrong. I did. I just have no memory of it.
And so, most mornings I wake up with my husband long gone (or playing video games in the living room) with no memory of his leaving me. At this point he no longer bothers waking me, I never remember it anyway. It's just one of those things. My body has programmed itself to ignore all stimulation until it has gotten what it feels is the appropriate amount of sleep. The only thing I'm able to wake up for is alarms. If I set an alarm to get up in the morning, the second it goes off I shoot out of bed like a rocket, fully awake. I can't explain it. Somehow I recognize that this particular alarm is the get the hell out of bed alarm. (It probably has something to do with my intense punctuality. If I even suspect I might be late my chest gets tight).
Either way, it seems I'm doomed to wake up each morning wondering where the hell my husband is. (Don't bother pointing out that I should set my alarm and get up with him. That's never going to happen.)

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

The Great and Nurturing Maddie

I love my dog. (Yes, I realize that we've already established this but hear me out. Or don't. No one has a gun to your head). Yesterday, I was sick. I had food poisoning and one thing I love about my darling dog is that when I'm sick she always knows. I don't know how, or why she even cares, but she does.
Yesterday I woke up feeling really, really nauseous. At first I figured it was because I'd slept in and hadn't eaten breakfast, and I'm one of those people that HAS to eat breakfast. So, I got up and made myself something to eat. Surprisingly, when I was finished I didn't feel any better. I always feel better after I eat. Slightly confused but still determined to go to work, I headed off to take a shower. No more than two minutes into my shower I became overwhelmed by sick feelings and threw up several times. In the shower. (Yes, it was disgusting). I sunk down to my knees and sat there, with the water pouring over me, shaking slightly, when I heard the clicking of nails on the linoleum. Maddie was there. She stuck her head into the shower and after I assured her I was okay she lay down on the floor in front of the shower doors, refusing to leave until I got out. I finished my shower and got dressed (yes I was still determined to go to work). After all, I felt a lot better. Or so I thought. An hour later I was back where I started, this time over the toilette. Needless to say at this point I threw in the towel and called in sick.
Throughout the day, whenever I got sick, Maddie was there. When I was shaky and exhausted and had trouble standing up, Maddie was there. She stood steady as I used her to help myself stand up. And when I asked her to walk me to the couch? She walked me to the couch and stayed with me until I was safely curled up on its cushy softness.
She's a hell of a dog. When she's good, she's really, really good. When she's bad, she's really, really bad. There's no half way with my girl. Hell, by late last night I was feeling back to normal and she knew. She'd broken into my gift wrapping closet, pulled out a whole bunch of tissue paper and shredded it all over my office. It's like I said, there's no half way. (And God help me, she knows when I'm faking).

Friday, August 6, 2010

The Death of Patience

I realized today as an angry motorist gave me the finger for being stopped at a red light (?), that the era of the kind and polite Canadian is at an end. Patience is dead. You see it every day on the road, in the stores and frankly, anywhere there happens to be a line. What happened to waiting for one's turn? Why is it so important to be first all the time? Where did this self entitlement come from? When did everyone decide that they deserved to be first and everyone else be damned?
I tried to be angry at the man in the truck, but I was too amused at his idiocy. Where did he need to be in such a hurry? Nowhere. He just couldn't stand the thought of waiting. Why is waiting so repulsive? It was a beautiful day, I felt sorry for him that he couldn't enjoy it. Not to mention, one day he's going to flip off the wrong person and they will joyfully beat his head in with baseball bats. I mourn the loss of our national pride, we no longer have an identity to cling to. I cringe at the thought of all these horrible people being our ambassadors to the world when they travel. What happened to taking pride in being polite and mindful of one's neighbours? I weep for the future.