Hello and Good Happy Halloween Mornin' to Ya! It sure has been a while. I'm going to try to address some of the comments I've been neglecting and give a general update here while I have a rare moment of peace and quiet. I miss my blogging world despite have a new real world which is taking up all of my time. I feel often that my blogger friends understand me better than some of the friends and/or family who actually see me in person daily. And I don't want to lose the connection I have to you guys - those in particular, who I would miss the most, probably know who you are. And then there are some new folks been stopping by and I feel so psyched about that because they seem cool. I'm glad to be hearing from you Verity Vaudeville cuz I think we have a lot in common and it's good to bounce thoughts off other interesting folks cuz they understand the origin of the pain or happiness better than someone who does not think in the same intense way as you or I or those who are in the realm of the functioning crazies. And I say that with as much love as possible. I really appreciate you all. And I love when Boston Joe stops by on his way about his own super busy life. Much Love to you all!!!!
So what's new? Oh, there's just so much I don't know where to begin. I'll have to check in with Jeannie and see how her illness has played out cuz mine's still hanging on with a lot of might. I feel a bit better for a day or two and then here it comes, rolling back at me with full force. I'd probably have more luck beating this thing if I had a few days off to recuperate. I hadn't been working at all (well, not a real job anyhow. And work for my Mom is more forgiving than the real thing) and now I'm working non-stop. I think, since I started my first day at the choco store at the very end of September, until now at the very end of October I've had only three days off. And we all know I spent those days doing my laundry, cleaning my space, cooking so I'd have lunches for the week, and generally preparing to continue the daily grind with as few snafus as possible. One afternoon I did just take to bed and refused to acknowledge anyone or anything so I could sleep a bit. And that helped a lot. If I could do that for just, like, two days I think I could beat this faster. But I've been taking plenty of the traditional Day/NightQuil, the Theraflu icky hot medicine drinks, and the Mucinex which just seems to make gooey shit come dripping out of every orifice - shouldn't I be dried up already? For crying out loud!? It's begun to dry my skin out to the point it's itching and I have to slather myself in moisturizer - but my lungs and sinus areas are still slogging in mucus. So I've added some alternative remedies and have been drinking much Gypsy Cold Tea and echinacea with garlic and ginger. And although I am not well yet, there should be something to be said for not collapsing entirely. I don't feel a hundred percent but I'm still getting high praise at both my new jobs so imagine how much they'll love me when they see how hard I work when I'm not sick. Whoo hoo, they better watch out, can they handle my greatness as an employee?
No, really, in all seriousness I am enjoying both jobs for the most part. I love, love, love the chocolate shop because I'm learning so much I really feel as if I'm an apprentice to this amazing trade. I feel very blessed to have found something which makes me happy and advances my culinary knowledge. Because any regular reader must know how much I love food, and cooking and baking and now I'll be adding confections to my repertoire - and that is awesome. More details on that later because I do have to work today for only four hours but it takes time to get ready too. And I still need to walk dogs and do some yoga for my own salvation in this life.
And this is mostly in response to SB because she brought up that working at Starbucks must be cool cuz free drinks and stuff. I actually am beginning to like it more and more as I'm learning all the crazy variations and coffee police guidelines - but there is one thing that puts a damper on it. Well, more than one but let's just focus for now on the fact the Starbucks I work at is not a "real" Starbucks. It appears so to the eye of every customer walking in the door, you are greeted with the traditional green and black color pattern, and all the typical products appear to be present but it is owned by Stop and Shop. And this is apparently an extremely rare arrangement, but of course I managed to find it. So although we serve the same drinks and follow ninety-nine percent of the same rules, certain little things don't apply. For one, us employees don't get free drinks like at a real Starbucks. We don't get a bag of coffee every month to take home and we don't get trained as well. Our paychecks are actually signed by Stop and Shop. How weird is that? We also have slightly different prices and we don't offer all of the same promotions to the customers. It can make things a little confusing, for sure.
Okay, dammit, I have to end this now so I have enough time to get ready and do some yoga, just a little, enough to keep my as pain free as possible. If people know how much yoga could help them they would just have to do it. I wish I had started years ago, I wish I had learned as a child. If I do it regularly, and I admit I have been slacking because I've been feeling sick and tired (the very reasons I should force myself TO DO it even more), it really help me in so many ways but mostly it helps keep the pain out of my shoulder. Without yoga, I can't even lay on my left side to sleep at night because it's too uncomfortable.
Well, for the third time, I think, I am off. I'm working downstairs in the shop part of the chocolate factory today. I prefer the kitchen, obviously, but the shop is wonderful too. Being decorated for the holidays makes it so magical feeling. I feel like an elf working at Santa's chocolate shop. Have a good day everyone.
Love,
Nellie
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Orange Pride
Oh My, I have to share this. I'm cleaning my dungeon, I mean my room in the basement, and I have the cable on in the background. It keeps the overwhelming pressure of total silence from bearing down on me until I can't breathe. And I'm not making this up, there was a Hooters commercial that wasn't trying to solicit customers, but employees. And it was clips of a series of women stating how proud they were to work for Hooters because it helped them pay for this or that, or it taught them the "value of customer service", or whatever. And I don't really care if someone wants to work at Hooters. But let's face it, it's all about the money, not the sense of pride they feel walking through those doors every day. That's really the only reason 99% of all women who make the decision to sell their bodies do so. Whether it's only part of their bodies, or the whole thing doesn't really make a difference. It's still a compromise they're making to make the most amount of money possible. Most women would rather be able to do something else and still make what they make by baring flesh and being ogled. That's why as soon as they are able they leave to attempt whatever it was that was their goal; at least half of the women said they were proud because it helped them accomplish something else, something better, something they were really proud of. Who they hell is really and truly proud of the pile of money in front of them when looking at it elicits visions of shaking your tits in the face of a fat, greasy, pathetic man who you would much rather smack and tell "Clean yourself up, Man! Have some self-respect or you don't get to see titties like these unless circumstances involve a load of desperation and pity!".
I guess what I'm trying to say is: do what you gotta do, but call it by it's real name. Don't make it out to seem like anyone would work at a place like Hooters for any other reason than waitressing is the only thing they're qualified to do and Hooters gets better tips than Denny's. I only feel like I can write this, and no one can say I'm just a prude bitch who just doesn't get it, because I've been in the position myself where I've seriously contemplated working as a stripper or at some crappy Hooters type place. And it generally takes one to know one. And I know that in my heart I didn't smile when I pictured myself there, I cringed. Because even though most guys, or even women in some rare cases, probably go to Hooters and even strip clubs to have a good time, with no ill intent in their hearts, that is not always how things turn out. I mean...even working a "regular" type job, like a bakery, farm, or trucking company you get the weirdos from time to time who say or do something borderline inappropriate or uncomfortable. And then when you add full or partial nudity, or even in the case of Hooters, no actual nudity but a scarcity of fabric and a strong sexual insinuation, boundaries become less clear. And when it is part of your job to be very friendly, it's hard to know when to draw the line. I know that I personally put up with way more crap from bosses and customers than I would from anyone else.
I don't know, I guess my opinion is not that well thought out. I guess it's sort of like how most people are born just knowing right from wrong. It's just something you know, you feel it like it's an extension of your own self, knowledge that just came with your brain when you got it. And there is something about the way in which sex is sold these days that just seems unhealthy to me.
Wait. I have to explain something. I am NOT against the exchange of goods for sex. But it must be an even, safe, fair, and respectful trade. The purchaser must understand that they are buying something very special. As it is, people look down on the person who sells their body. In the current climate, such people are looked upon as morally loose, less worthy of respect , lacking respect for themselves, and easily disposed of. I suppose I can't really speak of what goes on in other places, but in the United States certain jobs are considered more worthy than others. In most cases, the service jobs, the manual laborers, even teachers and police, the people who really do the jobs that NEED to be done get paid barely enough to live on. While the people who are entertainers or work at jobs which have only developed as life has changed to give people more luxury and leisure time, they make more money than they even know what to do with. And we equate money with worth in this country. But those jobs could disappear and no one would die because their services are no longer. I think we need to reevaluate what is important in this country. We need to move away from our obsession with material possessions and focus on connections with ourselves, the people around us, and our physical and spiritual worlds. And if you consider such connections our purpose of living, than sex work would be considered a very important job. In a way, being a sex worker could be considered working in health care. Because all people crave physical touch, human connection. Lonely people who have no one to connect with tend to develop illnesses and die years before those who do have close connections with other people. But some people don't know how to create those connections, they need help. A lot of times it's those folks who visit prostitutes. Sure, there are the weirdos, but often it's just that they don't know how to ask the people in their lives for what they need, or they have no one to ask. Sex is a great way to alleviate stress and relax on a deep level. And many times, sex workers create close relationships with their customers over the years and even add aspects of talk therapy into their sessions. In a perfect world, sex workers would be considered well-trained healers, physical and mental. They would be respected. But they are not. And I don't think it's right to put commercials like the Hooters ad on t.v. where young girls see that and think that's the reality. It's glorifying a really crappy, demeaning job and perpetuating an overall acceptance of women as sex objects.
Well, this turned into a really long rant. I didn't see that happening when I began. I was shocked in a sort of humorous way but then I began to get kind of angry as I thought more and more of the injustice in the world. There is just so much of it everywhere I look. It can be overwhelming to think of all the things that are wrong in this world. I apologize for the harsh, judgemental tone, but the subject is very important. So have a good day, all.
Oh yeah, my title today is Orange Pride because that was, like, their thing. You know, orange is Hooters' color and at the end of the commercial they were like, "Whooo-hooo, Orange Pride, Yay!" Gag.
I guess what I'm trying to say is: do what you gotta do, but call it by it's real name. Don't make it out to seem like anyone would work at a place like Hooters for any other reason than waitressing is the only thing they're qualified to do and Hooters gets better tips than Denny's. I only feel like I can write this, and no one can say I'm just a prude bitch who just doesn't get it, because I've been in the position myself where I've seriously contemplated working as a stripper or at some crappy Hooters type place. And it generally takes one to know one. And I know that in my heart I didn't smile when I pictured myself there, I cringed. Because even though most guys, or even women in some rare cases, probably go to Hooters and even strip clubs to have a good time, with no ill intent in their hearts, that is not always how things turn out. I mean...even working a "regular" type job, like a bakery, farm, or trucking company you get the weirdos from time to time who say or do something borderline inappropriate or uncomfortable. And then when you add full or partial nudity, or even in the case of Hooters, no actual nudity but a scarcity of fabric and a strong sexual insinuation, boundaries become less clear. And when it is part of your job to be very friendly, it's hard to know when to draw the line. I know that I personally put up with way more crap from bosses and customers than I would from anyone else.
I don't know, I guess my opinion is not that well thought out. I guess it's sort of like how most people are born just knowing right from wrong. It's just something you know, you feel it like it's an extension of your own self, knowledge that just came with your brain when you got it. And there is something about the way in which sex is sold these days that just seems unhealthy to me.
Wait. I have to explain something. I am NOT against the exchange of goods for sex. But it must be an even, safe, fair, and respectful trade. The purchaser must understand that they are buying something very special. As it is, people look down on the person who sells their body. In the current climate, such people are looked upon as morally loose, less worthy of respect , lacking respect for themselves, and easily disposed of. I suppose I can't really speak of what goes on in other places, but in the United States certain jobs are considered more worthy than others. In most cases, the service jobs, the manual laborers, even teachers and police, the people who really do the jobs that NEED to be done get paid barely enough to live on. While the people who are entertainers or work at jobs which have only developed as life has changed to give people more luxury and leisure time, they make more money than they even know what to do with. And we equate money with worth in this country. But those jobs could disappear and no one would die because their services are no longer. I think we need to reevaluate what is important in this country. We need to move away from our obsession with material possessions and focus on connections with ourselves, the people around us, and our physical and spiritual worlds. And if you consider such connections our purpose of living, than sex work would be considered a very important job. In a way, being a sex worker could be considered working in health care. Because all people crave physical touch, human connection. Lonely people who have no one to connect with tend to develop illnesses and die years before those who do have close connections with other people. But some people don't know how to create those connections, they need help. A lot of times it's those folks who visit prostitutes. Sure, there are the weirdos, but often it's just that they don't know how to ask the people in their lives for what they need, or they have no one to ask. Sex is a great way to alleviate stress and relax on a deep level. And many times, sex workers create close relationships with their customers over the years and even add aspects of talk therapy into their sessions. In a perfect world, sex workers would be considered well-trained healers, physical and mental. They would be respected. But they are not. And I don't think it's right to put commercials like the Hooters ad on t.v. where young girls see that and think that's the reality. It's glorifying a really crappy, demeaning job and perpetuating an overall acceptance of women as sex objects.
Well, this turned into a really long rant. I didn't see that happening when I began. I was shocked in a sort of humorous way but then I began to get kind of angry as I thought more and more of the injustice in the world. There is just so much of it everywhere I look. It can be overwhelming to think of all the things that are wrong in this world. I apologize for the harsh, judgemental tone, but the subject is very important. So have a good day, all.
Oh yeah, my title today is Orange Pride because that was, like, their thing. You know, orange is Hooters' color and at the end of the commercial they were like, "Whooo-hooo, Orange Pride, Yay!" Gag.
Monday, November 9, 2009
I'm relaxed alright, maybe a little too relaxed........
One of my biggest issues is lack of sleep. So I thought that maybe if I got some calming tea and drank it before bed in the morning I would sleep better. So I found some nice, flavorful tea in the natural foods section of my market. And while I was there I was perusing some of the items and remembered Melatonin helps sleep cycles also. So I got some of that too. So this morning right before getting off work, around five a.m., I drank a cup of the tea. That was relaxing. Then, around ten or eleven, maybe, I took the melatonin. And within a half hour I was nodding out while trying to read my book. I slept more soundly than I have since my drug induced days. Only problem is, I only had about five-six hours of sleep time. I'm not ready to wake up yet, AT ALL! I feel sleepy, oh, so sleepy. I think I may fall asleep sitting up at the desk. That would be bad. I think I'll try to keep using it though because I'll probably get used to it. And I'll just try to take it earlier too. Because if I could sleep that well everyday, it would be a miracle.
As far as supplements go, Omega oils have helped me a lot too. If I take at least two a day, I feel pretty calm and together. But if I forget to take them for a couple days, I get so irritable I could punch a hole in a punching bag. I don't know why it has this effect on me, but it does. And it helps my skin, hair, and nails a bit too.
But a warning to all....make sure if you take melatonin that you give yourself at least eight hours to sleep. Or else you'll be like me. Looking like a relapsed H addict nodding out onto the desk at work. Wouldn't want that, although I feel veeeeeryy caaalllmm........
As far as supplements go, Omega oils have helped me a lot too. If I take at least two a day, I feel pretty calm and together. But if I forget to take them for a couple days, I get so irritable I could punch a hole in a punching bag. I don't know why it has this effect on me, but it does. And it helps my skin, hair, and nails a bit too.
But a warning to all....make sure if you take melatonin that you give yourself at least eight hours to sleep. Or else you'll be like me. Looking like a relapsed H addict nodding out onto the desk at work. Wouldn't want that, although I feel veeeeeryy caaalllmm........
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Summer in November
Wow. It was almost like summer today, it was so warm and sunny. I planted some bulbs in my yard, I don't think it's too late, they should be okay. Some crocus, tulips, and daffodils. I love flowers, how typical is that? Does anyone actually dislike flowers? I mean, really, what's not to like?
Another super long night at work. I want a new job, but man, it is hard to find much out there these days. Especially for someone who does not have extensive education and piles of degrees. I really need to finish/continue school.
I have a serious lack of places to sit in my apartment. I think we have, maybe, three chairs. And the dogs take over the bucket chair and it smells like dog and no one wants to sit there, understandably. I've been looking into getting some new chairs because I think it would make all the difference. I want big, cushy, super comfortable, could-fall-asleep in them chairs. You can find some okay ones for a couple hundred bucks online, maybe after Christmas. I've noticed that as I get my apartment organized and livable, Mikey and I get along better. It's really distracting and stressful living amongst massive clutter. Because it seems to be having a positive impact on my life, it makes me want to make it nicer and nicer.
Up until I got really addicted to dope and thought of nothing else, my apartment/living space was always clean and organized. obsessively so. Then I guess I just stopped caring and it became a nightmare. the worse it got, the less I wanted to deal with it. So it went on like that for about five years. And then I got "clean" and I was embarrassed to have friends over and it was clearly making me crazy and constantly stressed to have my living space in such disarray. And so I've been systematically throwing away everything that is old or I no longer use and it's awesome!
So tonight I brought the last of my piled up bills with me to work. I have so much down time I figured I may as well utilize it for my own benefit when possible. Maybe then i won't resent all the time I have to spend here quite so much. I figure I may as well fill up their trash with discarded envelopes, eh?
Can't wait.
It's amazing how simple things like good socks and shoes and the proper snacks and lots of variety make a night of work seem not so crappy. Maybe I'm just pathetically easy to please. Food and shoes, how lame.
Another super long night at work. I want a new job, but man, it is hard to find much out there these days. Especially for someone who does not have extensive education and piles of degrees. I really need to finish/continue school.
I have a serious lack of places to sit in my apartment. I think we have, maybe, three chairs. And the dogs take over the bucket chair and it smells like dog and no one wants to sit there, understandably. I've been looking into getting some new chairs because I think it would make all the difference. I want big, cushy, super comfortable, could-fall-asleep in them chairs. You can find some okay ones for a couple hundred bucks online, maybe after Christmas. I've noticed that as I get my apartment organized and livable, Mikey and I get along better. It's really distracting and stressful living amongst massive clutter. Because it seems to be having a positive impact on my life, it makes me want to make it nicer and nicer.
Up until I got really addicted to dope and thought of nothing else, my apartment/living space was always clean and organized. obsessively so. Then I guess I just stopped caring and it became a nightmare. the worse it got, the less I wanted to deal with it. So it went on like that for about five years. And then I got "clean" and I was embarrassed to have friends over and it was clearly making me crazy and constantly stressed to have my living space in such disarray. And so I've been systematically throwing away everything that is old or I no longer use and it's awesome!
So tonight I brought the last of my piled up bills with me to work. I have so much down time I figured I may as well utilize it for my own benefit when possible. Maybe then i won't resent all the time I have to spend here quite so much. I figure I may as well fill up their trash with discarded envelopes, eh?
Can't wait.
It's amazing how simple things like good socks and shoes and the proper snacks and lots of variety make a night of work seem not so crappy. Maybe I'm just pathetically easy to please. Food and shoes, how lame.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Addiction, Recovery, and Smoking in the Truck Yard
There's guys here who's job it is to drive around in a bobtail (the front part of a tractor-trailer) and pull trailers away from doors so drivers can pick them up, and they move trailers around the yard. There are generally two or three on a night. They are mostly back, forth and all around; but sometimes they find a little hidden nook and they park and sit there. Maybe they're napping, perhaps smoking the ganj, or jacking off, I don't know, don't really care. I just wish that tonight they would do what needs to be done up here and skeedadle on out of here. How's a girl supposed to get stoned around here with all these lurking employees?
I know that at least 90% of the people who work here get stoned. I mean I'm the "security" guard so I smell it wafting from guys' open car windows all night as they come and go. But I also know that there are plenty of people who will justify doing something themselves and then rat out someone else for doing the exact same thing. I admit that part of the draw is the amount of risk involved. For that short time, as long as it takes for me to rummage through my purse, find whatever I brought to smoke that night (sometimes a pipe and some bud, sometimes a blunt), and wait for the coast to clear before I sneak outside to stand in the shadow and smoke, I'm not thinking about time and the hours to go before I can leave this place to live the part of my life I wait all the rest of the time to live. For ten to twenty minutes, I am 100% in the moment.
I dropped another five mg last Wed. before my weekend, thinking that would give me a few days to adjust before coming back to work. Well it's taken a few days to register with my body and I just started to feel crappy last night. My eyes were constantly dripping and my nose was running. I rubbed my skin raw around my nostrils having to use the cheap, brown handpaper rolls to wipe my nose all night. I haven't bothered trying to wear eye makeup; I have to wipe the drip from my eye so often, it wouldn't last long at all. The only good thing about going down on the M-done is that I start to lose weight faster. I rarely have an appetite when lowering my dose and I begin to have more and more energy as I go down. I just hope I can get past the last five mg this time w/out using.
Part of my problem is that I am fed up paying fifteen dollars a day when my dose gets this low. By the end we're paying over three dollars a mg which is way more than the cost of any street drug I've ever bought, that's more than frickin' oxy's. It wouldn't be so annoying if the clinic we go to now wasn't so disorganized and unproductive. We are supposed to have a certain amount of counseling when on M-maintenence and although there are counselors employed there, they spend the majority of their time filling out paperwork, answering phones, and manning the reception room. There are no groups, like men and women groups or even the basic HIV or policy groups. I hardly even get piss tested and I've never had a treatment plan done in over a year at this clinic. If they actually had all the requisite services available I may not be so opposed to paying the fifteen no matter my mg dosage.
The best clinic I went to was my first one in Greenfield, Massachusetts. When we started there, southern Vermont didn't have its own clinic yet. Neither did, I beleive, Chesterfield, New Hampshire. Granted, Greenfield CSAC had been around for a while, so they had had time to work out kinks of the sort Keene Metro is dealing with today. But honestly, when you think about it, does it make sense to have to go to a special clinic to get methadone? If people can pick up a methadone prescription at the pharmacy for a pain diagnosis, why can't we pick one up as addicts, most pain patients are addicts anyway. Same with oxy's, vicoden, percocet, morphine - all over the pharmacist counter, but not methadone. I think this has to do partially with the fact that authorities in the fields of law enforcement, addiction treatment, and mental health have decided that addicts need to show how hard they are willing to work for sobriety. This method adheres to the belief that addicts are inherently weak, indulgent people who need to learn discipline and values. Perhaps one reason addiction is so rampant in our society is because the way we judge addicts and approach recovery is all wrong.
I know that at least 90% of the people who work here get stoned. I mean I'm the "security" guard so I smell it wafting from guys' open car windows all night as they come and go. But I also know that there are plenty of people who will justify doing something themselves and then rat out someone else for doing the exact same thing. I admit that part of the draw is the amount of risk involved. For that short time, as long as it takes for me to rummage through my purse, find whatever I brought to smoke that night (sometimes a pipe and some bud, sometimes a blunt), and wait for the coast to clear before I sneak outside to stand in the shadow and smoke, I'm not thinking about time and the hours to go before I can leave this place to live the part of my life I wait all the rest of the time to live. For ten to twenty minutes, I am 100% in the moment.
I dropped another five mg last Wed. before my weekend, thinking that would give me a few days to adjust before coming back to work. Well it's taken a few days to register with my body and I just started to feel crappy last night. My eyes were constantly dripping and my nose was running. I rubbed my skin raw around my nostrils having to use the cheap, brown handpaper rolls to wipe my nose all night. I haven't bothered trying to wear eye makeup; I have to wipe the drip from my eye so often, it wouldn't last long at all. The only good thing about going down on the M-done is that I start to lose weight faster. I rarely have an appetite when lowering my dose and I begin to have more and more energy as I go down. I just hope I can get past the last five mg this time w/out using.
Part of my problem is that I am fed up paying fifteen dollars a day when my dose gets this low. By the end we're paying over three dollars a mg which is way more than the cost of any street drug I've ever bought, that's more than frickin' oxy's. It wouldn't be so annoying if the clinic we go to now wasn't so disorganized and unproductive. We are supposed to have a certain amount of counseling when on M-maintenence and although there are counselors employed there, they spend the majority of their time filling out paperwork, answering phones, and manning the reception room. There are no groups, like men and women groups or even the basic HIV or policy groups. I hardly even get piss tested and I've never had a treatment plan done in over a year at this clinic. If they actually had all the requisite services available I may not be so opposed to paying the fifteen no matter my mg dosage.
The best clinic I went to was my first one in Greenfield, Massachusetts. When we started there, southern Vermont didn't have its own clinic yet. Neither did, I beleive, Chesterfield, New Hampshire. Granted, Greenfield CSAC had been around for a while, so they had had time to work out kinks of the sort Keene Metro is dealing with today. But honestly, when you think about it, does it make sense to have to go to a special clinic to get methadone? If people can pick up a methadone prescription at the pharmacy for a pain diagnosis, why can't we pick one up as addicts, most pain patients are addicts anyway. Same with oxy's, vicoden, percocet, morphine - all over the pharmacist counter, but not methadone. I think this has to do partially with the fact that authorities in the fields of law enforcement, addiction treatment, and mental health have decided that addicts need to show how hard they are willing to work for sobriety. This method adheres to the belief that addicts are inherently weak, indulgent people who need to learn discipline and values. Perhaps one reason addiction is so rampant in our society is because the way we judge addicts and approach recovery is all wrong.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Creepy Quiet Holiday at the Truck Yard
Thanks to new readers and followers for stopping by and commenting, it's always appreciated.
It must be because of the holiday weekend, but the truck yard is deserted tonight. There are no workers in the warehouse loading boxes because they worked during the day instead. Which means I had a few blessed hours alone, without Mike, before I had to go to sleep before work tonight (because Mikey works in the warehouse). I like working on nights like tonight because I don't have to do much of anything. There are hardly any interruptions in my blogging, reading, or watching old episodes of Friends on my laptop. But it is very creepy with no one else about besides the other guard down at the other end of the yard, and she is smaller than me. On quiet nights I know there are no managers and I can get away with smoking outside the shack without having to watch out with a paranoid eye.
Although our facility is notorious for employing felons and drug addicts, they frown upon doing drugs out in the open, at least nowadays. I guess back in the Good Ol' Days they used to smoke weed inside the warehouse while they worked, and do lines right off their jacks. Putney, Vermont, which is right up the road was featured in High Times back in the seventies, I heard. But recently I guess they even fired two guys to make an example out of them when they were caught smoking a jib outside the freezer, so I have to be careful. But I just can't go the whole night without smoking. I get nauseous a lot and smoking helps more than anything. Plus I like to smoke before I eat, and it also helps my eyes relax when I've been up too long and keeps me from getting headaches. I know that sounds ridiculous to a lot of people. I'm sure many would say that if I stopped smoking herb long enough, I would be able to eat, sleep, and relax just fine without it. Well, I don't care because it works right now. If it ain't broke, why fix it?
In fact, it's getting to be about that time. After one or two it'll probably start picking up as the drivers start to head out with loads for Monday. So I usually get my last smoke in around now and eat 'lunch', which I'm not sure can really be called lunch when it's eaten in the middle of the night.
And....I'm safe. I made it. Stoned, content for where I am, and ready to eat a crappy, microwaved lunch of macaroni and cheese and peas. I know it's not the healthiest, but it was the easiest to get together before work tonight since there was no food in the house besides pizza bagels which I had all last week. I'm really picky about what I eat, I know that. Mike gets really annoyed because I will never eat what is around and handy, I have to eat what I'm craving at that moment. And it's not generally simple things like mac & cheese and pizza bagels. It can be anything from beef stew to Spanikopita. So most days we stop at the grocery store on the way home from the clinic and we get whatever we want for that day. But then when we don't get to the store, there's nothing but a weird mix of vegetables and leftovers in various stages of decay. I know that it's a terribly inadequate system, I'm just bad at changing it. Every so often I decide we are going to go food shopping just once a week. So we go to the store and load up and all kinds of stuff, a few kinds of meat, eggs, milk, bread, juice, veggies, yogurt, applesauce, crackers, popsicles, rice milk for Mikey, cereal, all the basics and then a bunch more crap we don't need. And I keep telling Mikey not to worry that we're spending so much because it will last all week and we'll spend less than we do when we come every day. But then after about two days I begin to wonder what we actually bought that cost so much, where was all the food we got the other day?
See, it seems like when we have more food in the house, we eat more food. If we buy cookies, thinking we'll pack them for a snack at work, we end up eating them all because we usually don't have that and it's like we get crazed for the cookies. What is the point of this, I'm babbling, it's late and quiet, I'm stoned and because I'm eating I'm thinking about food. Besides the diet and weight loss fanatics out there, who the heck really cares what anyone eats or buys at the store? I mean, really?
I know it's not a good idea to blog about places of employment or fellow employees. But it's hard when so much time is spent at work. I suppose I really could get fired for writing that I smoked on the property, of course it's all a crazy made-up lie and everyone knows that so really there's nothing to worry about.
Honestly, it would suck to get fired from this job. I've only been fired once before in my life. It was a few years back when we were still using heavily, I got a winter job at the Putney Inn in Putney, Vermont. It was a crappy, part-time job but there's not a lot to choose from in a small town in the winter, so I took what I could get. I worked every summer then at Walker Farm and I always hated having to find a job to get me through the winter until they opened again for the season. So at this inn, I didn't have to be there most days until about two which was perfect because it gave me time to drive to the city and cop and make some money to go back the next day before work. And I only had to work four to six hour shifts most regular, non-holiday nights so I could make it through a whole shift w/out booting up. Generally they just had me greet people which is not what I applied for. I know I'm not a people person and I don't know why the owner wanted me to do that job because I made no pretense that I thought I would be right for it. I had applied to be a housekeeper. But she was like, 'No, you have such a friendly face and you're obviously intelligent. I want you to work in the restaurant'. So finally on New Year's Eve, I had to work really late clearing tables and crap and I admit I was wicked high. But I swear I was doing my job just fine. I've always been a hard worker. Like I said, it's the only job I've ever been fired from, and I've always done drugs, ever since my first job when I was, like, sixteen. But anyway, this manager woman who I suppose didn't like me, probably because of this girl Lisa who had introduced me to Chris Wayne who robbed me &mike of ten lbs of weed a year or so earlier also worked there (but that's a whole different story), anyway she told on me. rated me out to the owner. Who fired me.
She did sit me down one day and said we had to have a serious talk. I was nervous because I didn't know what it was about and when she asked if I smoked weed I started laughing, maybe because I was relieved but also because I never understood what upsets people about it so much. She was obviously taken aback and frustrated by my reaction. I said I wouldn't smoke weed before work anymore if it was that big of a deal. She said it was and asked if I was on anything else. Clearly I said no. I didn't smoke before work anymore, not right before work anyway. But I rarely smoked at all when I used dope, I was generally high enough most of the time and since I couldn't afford both, I chose the one I liked better. Of course I was still shooting up before work.
I really think I wouldn't have been fired if I hadn't known people I worked there with from the past. Lisa was one of the first people I did Oxy's with a long time ago and there was history there. And she had worked there before I did. I know they ratted me out because it generally takes a dope head to spot a dope head. I'm not talking living-on-the-street, junkie style addicts, but the working, functioning-well-enough addict. A lot of addicts I have known were really hard workers. The only thing that could come between them and their obligations for work or family was the need to avoid being sick. That's how I was. Really cool until I didn't have H. And then I'd drive a hundred and ten with no license, puking and shaking if I had to.
It must be because of the holiday weekend, but the truck yard is deserted tonight. There are no workers in the warehouse loading boxes because they worked during the day instead. Which means I had a few blessed hours alone, without Mike, before I had to go to sleep before work tonight (because Mikey works in the warehouse). I like working on nights like tonight because I don't have to do much of anything. There are hardly any interruptions in my blogging, reading, or watching old episodes of Friends on my laptop. But it is very creepy with no one else about besides the other guard down at the other end of the yard, and she is smaller than me. On quiet nights I know there are no managers and I can get away with smoking outside the shack without having to watch out with a paranoid eye.
Although our facility is notorious for employing felons and drug addicts, they frown upon doing drugs out in the open, at least nowadays. I guess back in the Good Ol' Days they used to smoke weed inside the warehouse while they worked, and do lines right off their jacks. Putney, Vermont, which is right up the road was featured in High Times back in the seventies, I heard. But recently I guess they even fired two guys to make an example out of them when they were caught smoking a jib outside the freezer, so I have to be careful. But I just can't go the whole night without smoking. I get nauseous a lot and smoking helps more than anything. Plus I like to smoke before I eat, and it also helps my eyes relax when I've been up too long and keeps me from getting headaches. I know that sounds ridiculous to a lot of people. I'm sure many would say that if I stopped smoking herb long enough, I would be able to eat, sleep, and relax just fine without it. Well, I don't care because it works right now. If it ain't broke, why fix it?
In fact, it's getting to be about that time. After one or two it'll probably start picking up as the drivers start to head out with loads for Monday. So I usually get my last smoke in around now and eat 'lunch', which I'm not sure can really be called lunch when it's eaten in the middle of the night.
And....I'm safe. I made it. Stoned, content for where I am, and ready to eat a crappy, microwaved lunch of macaroni and cheese and peas. I know it's not the healthiest, but it was the easiest to get together before work tonight since there was no food in the house besides pizza bagels which I had all last week. I'm really picky about what I eat, I know that. Mike gets really annoyed because I will never eat what is around and handy, I have to eat what I'm craving at that moment. And it's not generally simple things like mac & cheese and pizza bagels. It can be anything from beef stew to Spanikopita. So most days we stop at the grocery store on the way home from the clinic and we get whatever we want for that day. But then when we don't get to the store, there's nothing but a weird mix of vegetables and leftovers in various stages of decay. I know that it's a terribly inadequate system, I'm just bad at changing it. Every so often I decide we are going to go food shopping just once a week. So we go to the store and load up and all kinds of stuff, a few kinds of meat, eggs, milk, bread, juice, veggies, yogurt, applesauce, crackers, popsicles, rice milk for Mikey, cereal, all the basics and then a bunch more crap we don't need. And I keep telling Mikey not to worry that we're spending so much because it will last all week and we'll spend less than we do when we come every day. But then after about two days I begin to wonder what we actually bought that cost so much, where was all the food we got the other day?
See, it seems like when we have more food in the house, we eat more food. If we buy cookies, thinking we'll pack them for a snack at work, we end up eating them all because we usually don't have that and it's like we get crazed for the cookies. What is the point of this, I'm babbling, it's late and quiet, I'm stoned and because I'm eating I'm thinking about food. Besides the diet and weight loss fanatics out there, who the heck really cares what anyone eats or buys at the store? I mean, really?
I know it's not a good idea to blog about places of employment or fellow employees. But it's hard when so much time is spent at work. I suppose I really could get fired for writing that I smoked on the property, of course it's all a crazy made-up lie and everyone knows that so really there's nothing to worry about.
Honestly, it would suck to get fired from this job. I've only been fired once before in my life. It was a few years back when we were still using heavily, I got a winter job at the Putney Inn in Putney, Vermont. It was a crappy, part-time job but there's not a lot to choose from in a small town in the winter, so I took what I could get. I worked every summer then at Walker Farm and I always hated having to find a job to get me through the winter until they opened again for the season. So at this inn, I didn't have to be there most days until about two which was perfect because it gave me time to drive to the city and cop and make some money to go back the next day before work. And I only had to work four to six hour shifts most regular, non-holiday nights so I could make it through a whole shift w/out booting up. Generally they just had me greet people which is not what I applied for. I know I'm not a people person and I don't know why the owner wanted me to do that job because I made no pretense that I thought I would be right for it. I had applied to be a housekeeper. But she was like, 'No, you have such a friendly face and you're obviously intelligent. I want you to work in the restaurant'. So finally on New Year's Eve, I had to work really late clearing tables and crap and I admit I was wicked high. But I swear I was doing my job just fine. I've always been a hard worker. Like I said, it's the only job I've ever been fired from, and I've always done drugs, ever since my first job when I was, like, sixteen. But anyway, this manager woman who I suppose didn't like me, probably because of this girl Lisa who had introduced me to Chris Wayne who robbed me &mike of ten lbs of weed a year or so earlier also worked there (but that's a whole different story), anyway she told on me. rated me out to the owner. Who fired me.
She did sit me down one day and said we had to have a serious talk. I was nervous because I didn't know what it was about and when she asked if I smoked weed I started laughing, maybe because I was relieved but also because I never understood what upsets people about it so much. She was obviously taken aback and frustrated by my reaction. I said I wouldn't smoke weed before work anymore if it was that big of a deal. She said it was and asked if I was on anything else. Clearly I said no. I didn't smoke before work anymore, not right before work anyway. But I rarely smoked at all when I used dope, I was generally high enough most of the time and since I couldn't afford both, I chose the one I liked better. Of course I was still shooting up before work.
I really think I wouldn't have been fired if I hadn't known people I worked there with from the past. Lisa was one of the first people I did Oxy's with a long time ago and there was history there. And she had worked there before I did. I know they ratted me out because it generally takes a dope head to spot a dope head. I'm not talking living-on-the-street, junkie style addicts, but the working, functioning-well-enough addict. A lot of addicts I have known were really hard workers. The only thing that could come between them and their obligations for work or family was the need to avoid being sick. That's how I was. Really cool until I didn't have H. And then I'd drive a hundred and ten with no license, puking and shaking if I had to.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Of Mice and Tanning
I feel like I could sleep and sleep forever. If I could only take one thing with me for the rest of my life, it would be difficult to choose between a book and my fluffy down comforter. Either way, I can always escape reality by reading or sleeping. Unless of course I had a life-time supply of H and my down comforter, that would be bliss.
So we're not supposed to accept anything that any of the drivers try to give us. I think that's bullshit. So if someone tries to be nice by giving me some rolls or candy or soda, I'm supposed to say 'no thanks'? Yeah, right. It doesn't happen everyday, but every so often. It's generally something that they were going to eat themselves or throw away anyhow. So obviously I do accept whatever I'm offered, and I usually eat it too. This driver just came by and saw me eating Smart food, and asked if I liked popcorn. Obviously, as I am eating it now, I like it. So he gives me this very phallic looking popcorn thing. I can't help smirking as I reach for it. I thank him profusely as it always makes guys happy when they think you're happy because of something they did. It makes my job so much easier if I just flatter and flirt a bit. But I wonder where they get some of this stuff, what stores sell these things? So this thing is called a Caramel Cob. Seriously, I wish I had a camera. I'll try to describe it - obviously it is in the shape of an ear of corn, and it's in a plastic sleeve with green husks decorating the bottom to mimic an actual ear of corn. It then has a 'smack & snack' logo, instructing the 'fun way to open!' by pushing the top of cob through wrapper by smacking bottom of cob upward(I tried it, it worked)! I swear I'm not making this up. And you know what? It's actually quite good and caramelly chewy too.
I am so pale. I stood outside today and took off my shoes and rolled up my pants as I watched the dogs run around. I made the mistake of looking down at my white legs and they looked so white they appeared to be glowing almost translucent against the grass. I'm not used to being so pale. I've always worked on farms up until recently. That being what it is, I'd always have a tan by the end of April from standing in the sun all day. Super pale does not suit me at all - but neither does time-consuming natural tanning for tanning's sake. If I'm doing an outdoor activity, even if I can read outside, great. But I can't just sit there soaking up the sun, I get too hot and too bored (I hate the word bored actually. It's false anyway. I'm never so much bored as I am sick and tired and scared of my own thoughts). And tanning in a salon is not something I ever really took to. I am not good about going enough times in a row to get tan, so it seems like a waste of time and money. Although maybe I should keep trying since I'm all set with farm jobs and I have little time and less money for outdoor leisure activities. At least now I have a yard I can lounge in. And I can pretend I'm being productive sitting out there watching the dogs. Dogs need to go out, don't they?
The girl who works the shack opposite me at work at nights also happens to live in the same apartment building as me. She lives upstairs and so the logic is that she gets an indoor parking space in one of the garages on the property. At first Mike was all pissed that he didn't get an indoor spot. Well, thank God. Because turns out Laura has mice attacking her car from the nests they have built in the engine compartment. Sucks, right? They are messing with the wiring causing radio shorts. Luckily they didn't cause a fire from the stuff they hauled in there for nests. They stuffed leaves and cigarette buts in crevices. That would have been wicked fucked up if that happened to our car. Not that it's great for her, but it's not me. Is that awful to say, am I jinxing myself?
Yippee!!! Only an hour left to go for the night! Every other Wednesday I get to go home at one. That's a six hour shift as opposed to twelve. Most weeks I work forty-eight hour weeks, not by choice might I add. I'd rather work less and make less, actually, I'd rather work less and make more, much more. Maybe some day. For now, Goodnight. I am going to go mill about to pass the minutes, sweep the floor, finish up paperwork, smoke a onie in the shadows. Until next time.
Nellie
Monday, April 13, 2009
Boyfriends Suck Sometimes
I have to vent this current frustration which is a recurring irritation in my life. I imagine there are many women out there who have experienced similar issues with their men. My boyfriend and I work for the same company doing different jobs, I work the inbound and outbound security entrances and he works in the warehouse. So thankfully we don't have to actually work together hour after hour. But we do have to share a ride there and back because we only have one car and I don't have a license. Herein lies the shitty part; we work different days and different hours. And since we both work long days as it is, it makes it hard to get ample sleep on work days.
On the days we do share, Mike often gets out a few hours earlier than I do. On such days he tries to get a few extra hours sleep by driving home and crashing until I get out. So this morning was one such opportunity. So he gets out and stops by my shack to let me know he's done and taking off. But he didn't grab the one set of house keys and I didn't notice until he calls from the apartment all pissed about it. Now I don't think it's my responsibility to remind him to take the keys. Of course if I had noticed they were on the table I would have said something. But he's a grown man, he knows there is one set of keys for the new place still, but nonetheless he calls and in a very accusatory tone says, "I suppose you have the keys there?" And I'm like, "Oh, crap, yeah. What are you going to do?" And he replies by moping and swearing. And then I lay the options down, like, you can stay there and break in if you are able, or you can drive back the ten minute drive or less and get the keys. "But", I say "I cannot beam them to you, so make up your mind, I have to work." And what does he do? Hangs up on me. What the fuck? Seriously. Grow Up, Guys Everywhere - Take Responsibility!!!
Obviously he ends up driving back here to get the stupid keys. And he just grabs them and roars off. As if stomping on the car now is going to make him get the last half hour back. I guess he's not so concerned about the car breaking down at the moment.
And although I am annoyed, I'm not feeding into this bullshit. He'll have gotten over it by the time he has to pick me up. But I still shouldn't have to be dragged through his crap at all.
On the days we do share, Mike often gets out a few hours earlier than I do. On such days he tries to get a few extra hours sleep by driving home and crashing until I get out. So this morning was one such opportunity. So he gets out and stops by my shack to let me know he's done and taking off. But he didn't grab the one set of house keys and I didn't notice until he calls from the apartment all pissed about it. Now I don't think it's my responsibility to remind him to take the keys. Of course if I had noticed they were on the table I would have said something. But he's a grown man, he knows there is one set of keys for the new place still, but nonetheless he calls and in a very accusatory tone says, "I suppose you have the keys there?" And I'm like, "Oh, crap, yeah. What are you going to do?" And he replies by moping and swearing. And then I lay the options down, like, you can stay there and break in if you are able, or you can drive back the ten minute drive or less and get the keys. "But", I say "I cannot beam them to you, so make up your mind, I have to work." And what does he do? Hangs up on me. What the fuck? Seriously. Grow Up, Guys Everywhere - Take Responsibility!!!
Obviously he ends up driving back here to get the stupid keys. And he just grabs them and roars off. As if stomping on the car now is going to make him get the last half hour back. I guess he's not so concerned about the car breaking down at the moment.
And although I am annoyed, I'm not feeding into this bullshit. He'll have gotten over it by the time he has to pick me up. But I still shouldn't have to be dragged through his crap at all.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Nine Days To Go
Only nine more days until we can move! I am so ready to go. It will feel like a huge weight has been lifted once we leave and our dogs and belongings are no longer exposed to possible mayhem. I dread each night as I leave for work that someone will break in again, really that the same people will come again and take more stuff or hurt my animals. It will be so great to be able to just go to my yard to walk my dogs. I'll no longer have to coax them into their harnesses and stuff them in the Honda, all six of them. Of course they'll still need some sort of harness and leash at our own house but we won't ever have to worry about strange big dogs or their owners bothering us anymore while we walk.
I am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open right now. But if I get caught sleeping at work there is a good chance I could get fired, and that would suck. I think all the stress is draining me. I can't sleep well lately, I feel fatigued even when I just wake up. I know I need to move around more and get some exercise to feel more awake- but it's a hard cycle to break. I really hope this funk lifts with a change of scenery.
I've even been flaky at work, especially at the end of my shift. I start to get really busy around 4:30 a.m. until I leave at 7a.m. but I've already been working for 12 hours by then and I have to type quickly. I'm generally pretty neurotic when it comes to my job. And lately it's not that I lack enthusiasm or pride in my work, my head just hurts from the stress.
Well there's nothing really in my head right now except a heavy fog and a twitch in my eye (it doesn't appear to twitch, it just feels like it. who knows?). This post is merely evidence that I am alive.
The crappiest event occurred the other day. I bought the weekend local paper, which I do only on occasion, because I was intrigued by a headline I spied. 'Body Found on Stickney Brook Road' it read. It was not long before I read further and realized the article was referring to a woman who had lived down the hall from us at the building we just recently moved out of. She lived in the building the whole time we did, almost five years, so we knew her well enough, saw her daily. She almost took a puppy from the last litter we had but she wasn't really compatible with pets so she gave her back, which I was secretly hoping she would do anyway. Even though she was just an acquaintance, it is still creepy. It didn't say much about what may have happened except that she appeared to have suffered from hypothermia. She was only in her forties and relatively active and healthy. It's just sad.
N.
I am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open right now. But if I get caught sleeping at work there is a good chance I could get fired, and that would suck. I think all the stress is draining me. I can't sleep well lately, I feel fatigued even when I just wake up. I know I need to move around more and get some exercise to feel more awake- but it's a hard cycle to break. I really hope this funk lifts with a change of scenery.
I've even been flaky at work, especially at the end of my shift. I start to get really busy around 4:30 a.m. until I leave at 7a.m. but I've already been working for 12 hours by then and I have to type quickly. I'm generally pretty neurotic when it comes to my job. And lately it's not that I lack enthusiasm or pride in my work, my head just hurts from the stress.
Well there's nothing really in my head right now except a heavy fog and a twitch in my eye (it doesn't appear to twitch, it just feels like it. who knows?). This post is merely evidence that I am alive.
The crappiest event occurred the other day. I bought the weekend local paper, which I do only on occasion, because I was intrigued by a headline I spied. 'Body Found on Stickney Brook Road' it read. It was not long before I read further and realized the article was referring to a woman who had lived down the hall from us at the building we just recently moved out of. She lived in the building the whole time we did, almost five years, so we knew her well enough, saw her daily. She almost took a puppy from the last litter we had but she wasn't really compatible with pets so she gave her back, which I was secretly hoping she would do anyway. Even though she was just an acquaintance, it is still creepy. It didn't say much about what may have happened except that she appeared to have suffered from hypothermia. She was only in her forties and relatively active and healthy. It's just sad.
N.
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