Friday, February 22, 2013

M.I.A... not really

I'm not M.I.A., I'm just being a bit lazy. And busy. Lots of busy. Spawn used to say it "bissy" as in, "I bissy! Go 'way!"

Charming little thing, wasn't she?

Tam and I have been up to our eyeballs in attempting to buy the shop (which, as we all know, is a far, far better thing than buying the farm). We've run into all kinds of exasperating details that keep demanding our attention and increasing the time between NOW! and when we actually get to write THE BIG CHECK! (feel free to add your own echos of doom there, because I sure did).

With any luck, we'll be an LLC by next week, which means we can then make the purchase. Unfortunately, Most Minor Minion decided to toss a triple-M style of monkey wrench into the works and FINALLY level with me by saying he doesn't really want to run the shop.

Oh. My. HAIR!!!

Now, I realize I was asking a lot for him to move away from that toxic bitch he's been "dating," if you call being verbally abused, dumped, lured back, and have it done all over again several times a month, "dating." I call it living in hell, but I digress...

Moving away from friends and family is not easy. I've never done it, but I know how I felt when my parents moved out of state. But he'll only be three hours away by car... which is the other problem. When he was on his way to the shop last week, his car blew a seal and with it, all the oil left his engine. On the freeway. At high speed. The car has been totaled and the resulting hulk sold to some guy as a project car. My son does not want to live at the beach because he'd be alone. Apparently when we're not there, the place is inhabited solely by stone-tappers and seagulls.

There are buses. And friendly people who own cars and are willing to help him out. He doesn't know them very well, but we do. They're fine folks who actually use technology! STICKS! and FIRE! ooh! They even wear... HATS!

So he's backed out (although I'm going to attempt to change his mind by begging him to stay there just until the last weekend in June when school is out) and we're left wondering how in the hell we're going to make this work. Tam can't quit her job yet because she has Li'l Red to consider. I can't quit my job because I have financial shit to consider. You know, car payments, taxes on the house... ugh.

Speaking of work... I checked the district website today and realized I was feeling physically and emotionally ill. That, my dear readers, is not a good sign. If my job is making me feel sick just looking at a website, then perhaps it's time to rethink things. So I did, and I came to the conclusion that it would be best if I quit the permanent gig and went back to being a substitute. I'll be kept plenty busy (special ed paras and health tech subs are always in demand) but I'll also have the freedom to head west and work the shop as needed. So it looks like change is in the air and it's good change. I just need to get the kid on board with it.

Next up:

"She just handed me a card with my name on it..."

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Out-of-Sorts


Tam is quitting her job come June. It’s been announced at the district, so I’m not breaking any taboo by mentioning it here. Originally, our plan had been to work the summer at the store, then come back here in the fall and work our asses off to pay down the loan.

But… there is a rather significant festival coming up in September that is a big one for the shop, and quite frankly, it’s more than one person can handle. Because of the earning potential, we decided it would be best if she stayed at the shop. She couldn’t do that if she kept her job here, so… yeah. She’s wanted out of that job for a long time, and I don’t blame her. The director is a thoughtless bitch who goes out of her way to insure Tam knows her place, and in the director’s eyes, Tam’s place is under her heel. No matter how great an idea may be, if it’s from Tam, the director will slap it down.

Then there is the heavy lifting, the burns from ovens and steamers, and the potential for falls because the floor is slippery and the custodian hasn’t replaced all the safety mats yet (we’ve only been in school since September). The job doesn’t attract younger people because the work is hard. Unfortunately, the way things are run, the older employees are being broken and worn down physically and emotionally.

No matter how you look at it, it is an unhealthy place to work and I’m so glad she’s leaving.

But I am out-of-sorts about it. She’ll be spending most of her time three hours away, and while I’m perfectly capable of accepting the situation, part of me is very jealous of the move. She’ll get to run the hat shop, her dream (mine, too). I get to go to a job that makes me very unhappy. In fact, I’ve been noticing that my job is making everyone unhappy because my frame of mind when I get home is pretty bad and it spills out over everything around me.

Not surprising after spending seven hours listening to 10-year-old boys call me “stupid, fat, fucking bitch,” or just “bitch,” or telling me to “shut the fuck up” or just threatening to kill me. Yeah… My job is awesome. At least no one has taken a serious swing at me for a couple weeks, so that’s good.

I’d love to walk away from it, but there is a large loan to pay off, and other things that need to be taken care of while I have a steady income, so I will remain where I am and hope it’s enough to make ends meet. Ok, it won’t be, but I’ll figure something out. It’s how dreams are moved into reality: hard work, sacrifice, and desire. I have all three lined up and ready to launch.