I’m gonna take your money, honey!

So, the fiancée was going through all of the money he has in his bank accounts and transferring them between accounts. He kept on telling me to remember one number, then another, and what they were combined. Well, they were certainly a lot combined and he told me he yet again got another bonus from his work. I started to give him this sly look with an evil smile and he told me to stop looking at him that way. I said that was a lot of money, and he thought I had the most money out of the two of us?

I couldn’t help playing with him though. I’ve been lazy putting my cash tips inside of my cash box that I save for a rainy day so when he wants to screw with me he picks up my cash money and does a little dance with it. He even talks to the money and makes me chase him to put it away again.

He also says how he looks in my cash box when I’m not around and throws it in his bed so he can sleep with it.

So, you better believe when there is an opportunity staring right at me to play the same game back at him I will take full advantage of it. I kept looking at him with this jesting smile on my face playing with him about how much money he had. He started to get paranoid and said he was going to look up pre-nuptial agreement online. I walked back into the bedroom and the fiancée followed me saying there wasn’t any point to getting one for him, but he could get one for me and my money. Even when I think I got him when I’m playing around he still ends up winning.

Of course, we were just playing, but with my last ex he actually told me I couldn’t get married to him until I signed it. He was independently wealthy, never worked a day in his life, and so he didn’t want me to take all of his money.

He also said when we were basically coming toward the end of our relationship that I only wanted him for his money and his mother was right about me. We were in a long distance relationship, I never asked him to do anything for me and that’s just the way I am. I’m okay with giving to people, but I don’t like owing anyone anything if I get gifts in return. He was so fixated on that, and all of the money their family business illegally squandered away for both him, his sister, and the rest of his family that he always seemed to think people were out for it.

I’m very happy I walked away from that, yet it gave me another complex for money. Right now my cash box, which is this box that holds all of my cash tips in it over 2 years (of course I’ve taken some for myself to use on a day-to-day basis) is inside of my fiancée’s room. And, for the first time in a while, my cash tips are out and I don’t feel too paranoid for doing that and having them out in the open.

Well, that’s a lie, I don’t feel paranoid until he spots some, holds it in his hands, and starts doing a money dance with my cash tips. That’s when I hide it in a lower shelf so he can’t see it.

I Live Like I’m Poor

I have these huge issues with money, and I think it’s all stemmed from my childhood. My parents have always fought over money from when I was just a kid and even up until this day. Watching them always fighting about money, and every time money was brought up there would be a huge fight. I think that even my brother has been affected by this because he seems to be careful with his money. Since I first started receiving money for birthdays, Christmas, or whatever the occasion, I have squirreled away said money.

I never used the money to buy something immediately afterwards, such as candy, like a normal kid probably would. I had a bank account when I was around 12 years old so I’d go to the bank and put my money in there. I might save the money up over years and buy that thing I really wanted. When I was just a kid I saved the $25 I’d get for Christmas and my birthday over several years to finally get $200. I went to a tack shop and saw this horse stable for plastic horses, and bought the little wooden stable with my money I had saved up.

But, besides those rare moments, I don’t allow myself to get anything. I live like I’m poor, and log my money that I spend from the cash I use, to my debit/credit card, and write it down in this file I have on my computer. I categorize everything I spend money on, from food, to groceries,  and every little thing I might spend my money on. There is a separate file I have for my monthly bills and how much I spend on them.

My fiancée definitely doesn’t do this, and I’m the only one I know who does keep such a money tally. He works a lot differently when it comes to money, he is not a saver, and this is something I’m more than aware of. It’s one of the things my parents constantly fight about, one spends more, one tends to save more, and the one who does the spending gets yelled at every time there is a new receipt on the counter. I don’t want me and the man to ever be like this, so when he spends his money, I don’t attack him and try not to bite his head off. It’s difficult because my first reaction is to chastise him for it, but I try to stop before I can act out that reaction.

I don’t want him to lie and hide what he does with his money because I’m going to come down hard on him every time he buys something. It’s just I have such a complex about money and I find myself planning ahead for when I don’t have a job and I’m getting nervous about it … of course. I’m trying to stay calm and not revert back to my crazy ways, but the thought of being unemployed when I have to move away certainly doesn’t help the situation.

Splurge

I’ve already started to get my Christmas presents for my family and the man… is this bad? Should I be faulted for a false start for starting it even before the end of Halloween? For someone who isn’t the biggest fan of Christmas I tend to start my shopping very, very early. So early, in fact, that by the time December rolls around I tend to have all my gifts in a basket and I’m ready.

My brother will be doing what I normally do for Christmas… going somewhere else for it. He will be traveling from December 21st through actual Christmas day. The man wants me to get time off the day after Christmas so we can go down to see his family. I know he really wants me to try, but I’ve already got that time off in December to go down to Las Vegas with my mom.

They were already to spit fire at me for that, they might actually chase me around screaming, “NO!” for asking for another day off in our time where we prep for it months in advance. Holiday season is big stuff where I’m at, and that time, and the time afterwards, is our “busy season.”

And you know what my Achilles’s heel is and we got the form in for that too. Our product order form is in and I’m adding, subtracting, adding, taking it away, for the products I want and it’s even more stress because we still don’t know about his interview for the move-away job. I’m needing to get more stuff than usual and before it’s run out since I need a big supply with it if… well, you know, the move actually happens.

Tis’ the season to splurge but I’m still fighting it.

Hormones are a dangerous thing

Hormones make you want to crawl into a hole...

I have the cutest, sweetest, client who comes to see me and she used to see me more often but their financial fund kind of dried up. She’s just one of those people who you meet and you’re kind of like “You can’t be for real… I never knew someone like you could exist!” Just as sweet as marshmallow fluff,  and so we’ve gotten to know a little about each other over time. She’s one of those few clients I discuss a little of my life with her, and she does the same with me. The last time I was really concerned about her because she came in my room and started crying, and it truly did kind of break my heart.

When she told me why, it really broke and then tore my heart still beating onto the ground.

She and her husband are trying to have a baby. But, unfortunately, it’s not as easy as it is sounds. She has the same thing that I have: Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. I was diagnosed with it just when I was a teenager, I’ve been on birth control pills ever since. It’s where there are a ring of cysts encircling the ovaries. When they found out about it I had a cyst the size of my ovary, or bigger, that I continued to have for 2 years. Being put on birth control pills was rough, I went through different brands that made me physically sick and the patch which made me want to scratch my skin off and like it was burning my skin at the same time. I’ve gone off birth control (of course, before dating anyone) with no success. I can’t be regulated without it, I’ve tried and failed.

My client tried to get pregnant the natural way, but had to resort to hormone injections. And, they were just making it too much for her to handle that day. It makes you feel pregnant with all of the side effects and just really is like, what I would think, being dosed with steroids.

I want her to get pregnant so badly. I know she wants it so terribly, and I find it so heartbreaking. She’s only a client of mine, but since the last time I saw her I was worrying about her. She was so funny when she came in, she said she was craving Mexican food and Mexican music. She told me she thought maybe, possibly, she might just be pregnant. And I want her to be. I wish I could make it happen because you can see it in her face, and even feel it in her body she has been working so hard to make this work. My client would be such a wonderful mother since she is so sweet, and I could see her spoiling her little boy/girl like crazy.

My client even asked me, since she was really thinking maybe, possibly, she might be pregnant if the massage might hurt it. If I was early in my career I would scared to do it, because I don’t want to do anything to mess it up. But, massage can be done in any period of the pregnancy, and I’ve had tons of experience doing it from the first, second, and third trimester. We talked about her family this time, and her husband’s family, who she loves, is going to drive up from god knows where to get bring her craving for Mexican food home to her.

It’s such a fine line to tread… I want to ask her if she is pregnant the next time I see her, but I will be so heartbroken again if it’s not true. I’m going to let her take the initiative, she knows I’m so rooting for her. If she comes back and says she’s pregnant, I don’t care if I’m in a Spa, I am going to leap for joy, make a ruckus, and I’m hugging her. It would definitely make my day to find that out! I feel like she’s meant to be a mother, and she’d make a wonderful one.

Up-rooted

I’ve had a whole weekend of feeling up-rooted. On Thursday night the man tells me that us moving away is, yet again, a prime probability.  The forces within his work are clicking, and falling together, but just out of alignment. They don’t tell anyone anything and there isn’t a soul who knows if their job is up in jeopardy, if they will have one, if they will get a job but then sign something that says they will be cycled out of the job within 3-4 years. And, the moving away thing actually might give him the opportunity to move up and progress further while if he stays here they will just put him in a career box and within 3-4 years might just give him the boot.

The honest truth is I don’t really want to move. I have my family here, my work here, and my life here. But, if it’s what I need to do that’s best for him, that gives him the opportunity to stay within the company and not get phased out, but not only that, be able to move up the ladder, it’s what I gotta do. It’s the sacrifice I have to make, we have to make.

Or, so, this is what I keep telling myself. He may still not get the move away position even if he contacts them, but if he doesn’t, he definitely doesn’t get it. If we wait then this will be gone and he’ll be given the slim pickings they’ve been talking about.

I’ve given him the okay to apply for it, to go after the this one job that if they accept him, we are moving. And, I don’t know how I’m going to have the strength to deal with it. He would move down first without me, and then on my days off I’d fly back and forth interviewing for jobs because I can’t keep my sanity if I’m not working. I’m just so weird like that, plus I want to have my own in-come coming in.

It’s just I miss him so much when he’s gone, he’s supposed to be gone on business not just once this month, but twice. It’s weird but I almost get really home sick for him.

Then, I received a card from one of my long-time, repeat clients and I was completely surprised. All day I had been thinking about leaving, and the possibility of it, so I was in a funk I couldn’t quite shake and I was just trying to avoid everyone. She got me at the end of my day and I opened it up and it was a three-year anniversary card. I mean, how sweet is that? I opened it up and looked down at it, my eyes darted up to hers, and then I just started choking up and almost crying. She had been seeing me ever since I started working, and she got me one of the sweetest gifts I have ever gotten from a client. On a day I was just fighting to stay afloat.

There is just one person who knows about the man’s work situation and what it might mean, and I’ve been avoiding her too. My mom was told about it and immediately went back to checking out salons/spas in the area that we’d be moving to. It’s just everything is up in the air so I’m the same way. My heart just goes out to my fiancée, he does a great job, and works so hard, and not only does he not know what is going to happen, but all of the other people who work for this company. He just keeps working, even on his off days, and tries his best.

He is the bread-winner and I am more of the… butter winner.

Tipping is a Spa Girl’s BF

From the moment I stepped into working and officially making money, I had inadvertently stepped myself into the world of the service industry. And, that world brought about my first experience with tips and how they are so important to not only my lifestyle, but for me to actually be able to pay bills and have enough money to barely get out of the poor bracket.

Tips, I have been told by those outside of the service industry, are a gift. They are not required. They are a special something, something for a job well done. Or, even if the job is well done, the tip may not reflect that.

As a dog groomer, a bather/brusher to be more exact, it really was an extra little bonus to get tip. I’d be working on the short-haired dogs that didn’t need to be trimmed or anything, like labs, Rottweilers, great danes, and many other different breeds. The groomers who actually cut, trimmed, and worked on the longer haired dogs got tipped a lot more consistently, though I don’t think ever as much as I’ve seen it within a spa.

Some places pay differently for doing a service. Some people work with commission, which may be 20%-30%-40% off of the price of the service (if not more). Me, I personally work with an hourly base, and tips literally have become my bread and butter. I rarely see cash tips, because I think about 90-95% of my clients tip with credit.

We get this thing called a ‘tip sheet’ that tells us the clients name and how much they tipped. I used to study this like I was going to be quizzed on it later, and memorize all of it, until I realized it was making me crazy. And, it was affecting what I thought of a client, building up resentment, and causing me a lot more harm than good. So, now I force myself to scan over it quickly, seeing how much it was altogether, and I try not to read it, reread it, see who tipped the most, the least, comparing it, and all that.

I try to tell myself some people may not know how much tipping means, some people may not have enough money to give a big tip, or decent one, for that matter. And that I should just appreciate everything that’s given to me. Of course, easier said than done. Some weeks may be amazing with tips, and other times it may just may just be a terrible week with $5-$10 tips.

Being within the service industry it’s all about making the customer, the client, 100% happy, all the time, every time, going above and beyond what you’re asked. Now, I’m all about giving my all to each and every client, changing my style to fit what they might need, but not every client will be happy afterwards. There will be a .1% that you will try your damnedest to get them to relax, to give them all you ask and more, yet they will still not accept it. They are unhappy people who may try to make you just as miserable as they are.

Those kinds of clients are few and far between. Which, is a good thing, because they are super frustrating and draining. I like to dub them ‘energy vampires.’ They just suck the life right from you! Their way of tipping can be hit or miss too, but mainly a miss.

So, when you hand over a tip, don’t be surprised if you see me salivate a bit. I can’t help it. It’s like with a dog and you open up that bag of food, and they stand there and stare up at you like, “Hey, hey, come on… I know you got it! I know you wanna give it to me. Now, now, now, now … yes!” That’s totally me, I can’t stop myself, my eyes might glaze over slightly and I try to play cool, but it’s not easy. Cash tips aren’t taxed, so I love them even more especially when they are put right in my hand. I’m tempted to get a tattoo on the inside of my arm that says “Tip me, pretty please!” but that might just be a tad bit overkill. Err, just a tinch.

Organized to a fault?

Yes, I’ve been a little MIA lately, I’m getting ready for a trip with the man which is coming up next week. So, you won’t be hearing from me even longer since I won’t have my handy dandy lap top with me and no connection to the internet besides his phone with internet access.

I am extremely organized. I put every thing little thing down in my life in a notebook that is handwritten or the notebook option with my lap top. I write down every single cent of what I’ve bought with both cash and credit. I write down my bills from month to month too, even if each month is basically the same thing. So, when do you get over-organized? When is organized just plain you going off the deep end and borderline O.C.D? I sometimes can’t stop thinking about something until I write it down so I remember it, and when I am able to do that it’s like finally getting to an itch I couldn’t scratch.

I like to write stuff down on Post-It notes… for myself. I recently went through some boxes of mine and wrote down exactly what was in them in a post-it note. The man also can be extremely organized, and two organized people joining together can sometimes bring some conflict. He likes things done the way he likes them to be done, I like things done my way or the highway. This follows me into work too, though I try not to let my stubborn/bull-headed ways rear its head with what I do. I like to do something that is my idea, that I came up with, and if someone suggests for me to do it and it’s not my idea I do put my heels in a little compared to being gung-ho if it’s what I came up with.

I do stuff without being asked to do them, I like being this way. I send off bills the day of when I get them, I like to have someone ask me to do something and have it already done. Of course, I prefer above all else just being busy. One massage after another so I’m doing what I love and I can’t be asked to do mundane little tasks cause’ I’m locked up in my room with my client and they can’t get to me.

My Mom is doing better, and I recently went to the doctor for a check-up appointment. They couldn’t find anything else wrong with her besides the beginning stages of cataracts that they’re just keep an eye on. The man is good, work hasn’t killed me, and I got a new nifty phone that is shiny and pretty. I can’t wait for my trip with him and have a little black dress picked out for the wedding as well as some cute cleavage revealing clothes for everyday wear.

Life in the fast lane

I’m a slow paced person who doesn’t mind when things get fast paced. Sometimes I just think that I’m a contradiction. People always think, outside of my field, that my job/career is extremely relaxing. That’s not exactly true, clients are late, other clients come on time, my lunch may disappear then reappear, and see people from all walks of life. The reasons for seeing me, for getting a massage, can be incredibly sad and even heartbreaking.

One poor lady was using the gift card for her mother. The gift card was bought almost two years ago, and her mother’s health declined and she was in the nursing home and could barely remember her own daughter. She felt incredibly guilty using her mother’s gift card, but unfortunately her mom couldn’t use it. Another client just had a baby, hadn’t cried since she had the baby and she was super stressed out with never breaking down since her child was born but visibly she was burnt out. The people who may be a bit snappy at me (which is actually pretty rare) I take with a grain of salt because I’m sure they’re going through a lot even if they don’t say it.

I’ve met women who were pregnant and now their babies are a year old, which definitely surprises me every time. I keep on thinking at oldest the baby would be 6 months, but no, it’s been an entire year. Somehow my mind can’t wrap around that it’s been that long.

The lane is about to get faster. Saturday is going to be ridiculous, I have to drive to work, drive to someplace else, then I have to drive back. I am not looking forward to it, especially since with the traffic I’m probably going to be late driving back and it’s all their idea. I’ve been asked to pick up hours because one of the therapists quit and now they have all these hours that need to be covered.

I don’t know what to tell them.

I’m a whore for money.

But, I can’t be THAT much of a whore for money, because ever since I got my lower back strain, and luckily healed from it, I am more than aware that extra hours = a possibility of injury and it’s inevitable I’m going to be pain. I’m definitely not permanently picking anything up, because I know it’s not for me. And I don’t need the extra money, I’m fine with money and I haven’t been sent home, which is actually rare not to get sent home at least once every week.

I don’t know what to tell them tomorrow, I’m really apprehensive about it. But, I’m trying not to think about it too much, easier said than done. I know that if I give them an inch they’re going to take a mile, and I don’t want to give them a mile.

Blog my Shortcomings

I’ve been reading a lot of blogs… a lot. And so, I’m getting a sort of complex because lots of these are freaking funny. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty freaking hilarious but I’m more of that funny person because they make fun of themselves and do stupid shit (action) type of funny rather than (written) funny.Of course, I say funny stuff before/during a massage sometimes and get people to laugh, but it’s like that random, spontaneous stuff I don’t think about.

I could never write funny stories, or purposely try to have something be funny in written text, short stories especially, because I’d feel like that person really pushing a joke and all you hear is crickets and muffled coughing in response to your funny ‘act.’ There’s no doubt in my mind that some people get my kind of funny in real life, and if they don’t, then they’re missing that funny chip to get it and that’s their loss.

People are hilarious on here, h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s. And I find myself chuckling even though I’m alone. Have you ever tried that experiment to see how much you rely on other people to laugh? Watch a comedy by yourself and notice if you laugh less when there isn’t someone there to laugh with you. I was in a not-so-packed movie theater seeing the movie “Get Low” which was awesome, by the way, and there were a few of the parts where me and my mom were chuckling together but the other 5 people in the theater not as much. And that movie has Bill Murray in it… and he just got me to at least smile once I saw his character because, hey, it’s Bill Murray.

I find it’s not a good idea to compare yourself to other people. You’re your own person, and that’s the way it should be, but even I fall away to my shortcomings. I want to be the best, maybe not here cause’ I know I’m not the best, but especially with my career. I want to have the best numbers, have clients really love me, and if they don’t love me, then it’s kinda like that funny chip being missing with some people and it really is their loss. Now, don’t get me wrong, the smart side of me says that not every massage therapist will be perfect for every client… even me. Some will want trigger point, thai massage, who knows what, and every one of us have been trained differently so someone may fit you better. But, the conceited side of me says that just can’t be true.

Just like every blog is different and could be perfect for someone, but then maybe not fit for someone else. You may love a blog which has recipes that you can try at home, or you may be like me and be unable to even make a decent mac and cheese. Your voice is your voice, uniquely you, and your experiences separate you from everyone else. Yes, someone may experience something that you’re going through, but your reactions, and how you live through it will be special to each person every time.

Mind is like a battlefield

I’m a type of person who says a lot of shit that goes through their head and I don’t really put up a wall to stop it. Now, don’t confuse me with what I like to call a vomit brain, who is a person who says every single little thought in their head even if it’s inappropriate and mean. That type of person who tells you twenty things at once, some of it very personal, where you cock your head, look at them, go, “uh huh” verbally while you wonder how they can talk that fast without visibly breathing. And wonder if they just insulted you in the same breath of telling you about their cat with the hairball and fuzzy the dog who just ran away… or worse.

No, no, I’m that type of person who doesn’t really care what people think. Of course, every person who says this has a piece of them which certainly does care, which strives to make people like them, and which recoils at the thought of someone not liking them for no reason except for the fact that they don’t like you. But, I live my own way, I don’t and haven’t fallen into peer pressure basically my entire life (but really grade school through college I didn’t fall into pressure, the teens was harder). Girls at work want me to color my hair, that’s not happening, they want me to wear make-up, that’s also not happening, I just do stuff if I want to do it.

And I either like people, or I don’t. Generally speaking I like about everyone and anyone, but if I don’t like someone, there’s a reason for it. I do have to battle myself at times to put up those walls to stop what I might be thinking about. At times that’s impossible, I say it without thinking, smile, and people laugh at my antics. I get away with a lot because I make people laugh, thank god.

Giving out empty compliments is not my way. If I tell someone something I mean it. With working in a spa I could give compliments out like candy, but no thanks, I’d rather it be genuine every time and unexpected.

I’m extremely honest with my job and my career, to almost a fault. I will tell a manager I’m working with what’s up, though I will never, ever, tell someone if I’m tired, if my arms hurt, if my shoulder blades are in a terrible amount of pain, I just don’t want to have what I tell them to be used against me. ‘Oh, hey, yeah, you were tired a week ago how about you go home early?” Uh, how about… no thanks?” Clients will ask me what’s up with them and what they can do to improve themselves, and I will tell them the truth. If they take my advice is another story all together.

And when I’m massaging I try to clear my mind and just listen to their muscles, but that’s especially when my mind can be a battlefield. It can be bouncing around with thoughts of dinner, what I’m going to do after work, my next client, how many hours I have left, so many things at once. It’s hard not to think of things when the person you’re working on is quiet and all you have is the spa music and you.