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.

That isn’t so sexy… how about something else?

I am more than an advocate for my honey always telling me how pretty, and how sexy I am even in my worst of times. But, even he has his moments where I want to shake him. I was walking around in my comfortable P.J.s and he asked me where my other ones were. I thought I knew where they were, but didn’t know why he was asking me.

“Because those ones are sexier…” 

To which he had me stomping around trying to find the ‘sexy’ ones so that I didn’t look like I was in a sack. Of course, I know what he means, but still. If you like sexier PJs then get them for me, if not, I will wear my comfortable stuff especially after work. I then changed into something, and grabbed a different top, and he told me he’d like the first thing I’d wear instead of what I was holding.

I swear, seriously? I cooled down later, of course, but was huffing for a bit after that.

My gift wrapping is as flawed as I am

You watch me wrap a gift, and I struggle with it, and add more than enough scotch tape to try to fix my mistakes and this can be a good metaphor for myself. I’m flawed, and sometimes I can’t do things perfectly, but I sure will put a hell of a lot of scotch tape on the situation to try to mend it. It won’t be as good as if I did everything with perfection in my touch, yet I think it’ll hold together.

Key word here is: I think it’s going to hold together.

My mother wraps like she’s a professional at it. The man wraps gifts with a mischievous air that shows through when you start to unwrap it. He hides the gifts inside of paper inside of a box that has another box with it. He places scotch tape directly on the present itself so even after you’ve detached the tons of gift wrap you still are picking off the tape with your nail.

Or, in my case, my lack of nail. My little nub nails, I can’t grow them out because of my career. The first time I spent Christmas with him I couldn’t believe the scheming he went through with each gift. You had to basically tear apart the wrapping paper with your teeth and he seemed to use tougher tape that didn’t give up the fight that easily.

You had to sort of ‘win’ your gift through persistence and a whole lot of swearing. As he gleefully watched you and couldn’t keep his laughing at bay when you start screaming out, “Really? Seriously?? What were you thinking gift wrapping this?!” And now I know what he was thinking, he was thinking about my classic reaction to it as I refused help (a.k.a.- a knife or scissors) and used my hands/teeth to get into it. Don’t worry, I’ve gotten back at his mischievous wrapping by getting clever about my own presents.

My mother has actually tried to fix my gift wrapping. I never do it right, and this gift I wrapped would be no different that she’d go, “No, no, no, that’s not right! Let me fix it…” But, with my moving out, she won’t be around to make sure they are extra perfect. They will just have to be imperfect, like me. And I will just put a ton of scotch paper on it to make it ‘work’ even though I’m making it worse.

Since it’s not a gift for the fiancée, I won’t try to make it extra difficult with putting it inside of another thing and putting the scotch tape on the object itself. Though, I still think my gifts aren’t as easy to get into as they should be.

Give me the pretties!

This is my form of a pretty

The man kind of has a fascination with ‘pretty’ things. He says that’s why he picked me, because I’m a pretty myself. I don’t exactly believe him, especially after a rough work week and I look like walking death, but he’s very sweet.

He likes strange-looking trees, and things that sparkle and glitter. It always kind of gets me to laugh when we will be walking by and say there is some stained glass and he will just stop and stare at it. And… then take pictures. I can’t judge him because if a butterfly flies in front of my face, and stops at a nearby flower, I am so on top of that and taking pictures with my little camera phone. He’ll eventually sit himself on a bench because I won’t leave until it flies away.

Or, well, if he drags me away…

So, I told him to get started on looking at wedding bands so I have an idea what he wants and more importantly, how much it costs. So, his tendency for going after ‘pretties’ doesn’t stop with me, he’s looking at all sorts of bands with stones inside of it. He’s shown me a few of them and they are definitely unique, and he’s leaning more towards opal I think. Which, opal is one of my favorite stones since I was just a kid. I love the fire within the stone that changes with the sunlight.

He’s kind of funny though, he’s the opposite of me so he shares everything going on with his life with everyone. So, he says that some of the guys are teasing him at work about choosing the stones and all that. They are telling him that they think it’s a little too ‘girly.’ Which, I’m trusting him to see that line, but still get something that he really likes.

I’m going to mangle this $3,500 or so pendant that I got years ago and remove the diamonds from it to make my wedding band. The diamond chips in it are pretty good sized so I’ll have the diamonds go around in the circle for the band. Well, that’s going to be my idea. I never wear the pendant because it really isn’t my style, so I thought I’d make good use of it turning it into my wedding band so I can wear it all the time. We haven’t gone to any jewelers yet to see what they say, but I’d think it wouldn’t be too difficult. And, it’d be a lot cheaper for him to do so we have more money to save for the honeymoon.

I’ve never had to deal with thinking about rings, what I want, what to do, I generally don’t wear them. With my career it’s just inconvenient, and I end up leaving my engagement ring at home every day that I work. The man is so funny with his research for the perfect ring and within the ‘budget’ I set for it. Which is less than $400, which I’m thinking is still reasonable.

I get people to laugh at work when they ask when my wedding is. Seriously, I’m just starting to say instead of “eventually” that they should re-ask me in about December or January. I won’t know the dates until 3 months out, it’s the way of the beast with choosing the venue I want. It’s gonna be last second (at least in my terms it is) and I’ll sign in blood to get my time off.

Weekend Work Woes

After every Saturday I work I wonder quite how I survived it. Fridays sometimes stir this thought in me, but Saturdays are when I just wonder how much vodka I can drink to help ease the pain and get me to stop replaying situations in my head. Of course, the man won’t let me go crazy with that so instead he gets me some ribs from my favorite place and massages me even though I never do massage him. Which, I feel bad about, but I kinda think that my arms want to abandon me after the weekend if they could.

This Saturday was no different, though worse.

We have this situation where we have to rotate rooms which means more likely that we get behind because we have clients scheduled and if someone shows up late, and we still take them, we always take them if they show up late, then the timing is all off. This happened and I had to ask one of the estheticians to help me with changing over my room, which then another client yelled at me since she walked in and the person who was supposed to be out of my room wasn’t. It was an accident, but she was very upset, so I apologized only to get more bitching out by said client.

At one point, I clamped my mouth, basically said for her to have herself a grand day, turned on my toe to get to work changing over my room because obviously I was behind. It wasn’t my fault, yet it wasn’t going to change the chaos I had to deal with. Another repeat client of mine was asking up at the front why I was running behind so the manager came back to tell her about the situation and that it wasn’t my fault that I was running behind. She then discusses to me when I get in the room how she doesn’t want to be late for her hair appointment and set her behind.

I think about this. I worry about this. I don’t need a client telling me that I need to worry about this. I need to get you in, do what I need to do, and do my own form of damage control because I am left to my own devices on how to catch up. This added much more stress to me when I couldn’t even eat my food during my lunch. Ten minutes left I started pacing because my next client was there, the one client who was in my room who wasn’t mine wasn’t out, so I was left there to wait and pace.

I did six and a half hours of massaging. Luckily this was with varying degrees of pressure, from light, to medium, to a couple of firm, and I still feel the effects of it today. Even though I’ve been putting myself on a strict thing of being lazy and re-cooperating from yesterday. I’m so over-done, nothing quite upsets me or gets me as riled up as disappointing people, or not giving my all, or just the plain fact of being late and having my clients be upset about that. Even if I couldn’t help it, it still hits me. At times I’m satisfied that I’m hidden in a dark room all day, so co-workers can’t badger me about how things are going.

They aren’t going. They aren’t going great, good, or mediocre. I am managing as best as I can the situation, this day, and this moment. Do not try to tease me, because I may just bite you. There are times when I’m in a mood to deal with people giving me crap, and there are times where I am fighting myself not to throw that stuff right back in your face.

I am a pleasant person, giving, loving, caring, and most of all I am a hard worker who will try to, at all times when she is at work, give 100% and more to her clients. To not do that is a disappointment upon myself and I take it hard, harder than anything you could do or say to me.

I know that I need to remind myself that I am human. There are days I will be my strongest, there are days this career will give me a smile I go home with, there are other days where I will drive home like a zombie. My eyes will barely be open, my arms and hands hurt just from gripping the steering wheel and you’ll catch me driving one-handed to give an arm a break and switching back and forth. This career allows me to meet so many different people from so many different walks of life. It’s just some of those people aren’t understanding, and some of those people will yell at you for a mistake you didn’t even make.

You take what they throw at you. You wish you didn’t have to take it, you wish you could fight back, but you bow your head, move on, switch over that room, put a smile on your face, extend your arm, and take the next person back. You massage in silence, hoping they enjoy it, trying to read them, and having this eternal battle not to think about every possible thing going on in your head.