You know ya need a change of scene when a sleep deprived early morning visit to the dentist feels like an outing. If the closest you get to a vacation is sitting in the dentist chair, forced to revisit the 80’s by way of really bad top 40 and staring at an utter waste of oil paint made to resemble a bucolic country side, with the obligatory creek running throughout – you are . You know you are tired, very tired, when you relax into the pretend nature and fall asleep despite a drill, suction tube and a hand inside your mouth.
It has been a long twenty-two months that feels like twenty-two years. Boyfriend and I belong to the lucky few that lost nothing in terms of worldly poccessions and never had to travel that Road Home. But, ever since we returned in October of 05 we have been working, working and working. Boyfriend is no stranger to long hours and long years – it was just part of being a chef. But me – now that’s a different story. I believed in working to live not living to work. And my 27 to 35 hour work week suited my needs just fine. Mind you, as a waitress, those hours could be brutal and challenging but my free time was always there to lick my wounds.
As you may already know, we opened a cook book shop and considering the economic landscape here nowadays we ain’t doin’ too shabby. I have fallen in love with our little shop and while it’s a love child of our business union – it’s time for the child to start doin’ the dishes.
Speaking of dishes, I actually yearn for the free time to clean house. And when I take time away from the shop to work up a little sweat with my Electrolux I feel anxious and guilty.
There are so many things I don’t do anymore – some I miss desperately some I just have forgotten to miss. Going to the movies or a museum now seems too time consuming when those two hours could be used for: the vet, making groceries, Office Depot, the thrift store, recycling drop offs, dentist, doctor, and another vet visit before it’s all over. Oh, and don’t forget to walk the dog – she looks like she’s gonna pee right about now – and in walks a customer – and there goes another little puddle to clean up – again.
Multi-tasking, for me, is like performance art – sometimes I excel and then sometimes I dance myself into a corner. Lately my back is bruised from backing into corners. I know I am not alone. These days, it seems, everyone here is running on empty. Katrina? Yes, but in my case it’s the we/opened/a/new/business/work/seven/days/a/week/plus/the/rent/paying/jobs syndrome. Fall into this life style and ya hardly have time for a cocktail (not to worry my doctor suggests xanax).
Okay, my life is stylin’ compared to what’s dished out to most. I have a business that teaches me, stokes creativity and I have the joy of sharing this with a man I love and a small herd of animals. But, day in day out smiling through all the details has begun to make a little cranky. Why, just take the other day…
There I was at my rent-paying-restaurant-job when a very nice customer complimented my smiling attitude to which I replied: “Thanks, but on the inside I am cutting you up into tiny little pieces”. Thank god he thought this to be very funny. Yeah right. So…I immediately made reservations for a mini-vacation.
Ever find yourself wanting to slap the daylights out of some sweet hapless tourist as they blithely comment, “…well things seem to be getting back to normal”? Do you bite your tongue till it bleeds rather than risk words than can never ever be retrieved? Are you taking time to see, hear, feel any of the precious things that New Orleans has to offer? Do you wonder at least ten times a day “Why the hell did I move back here”?
Yes? Then, as the song goes, pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again. Take my advice: Don’t wait till you’ve hurt someone’s feelings or burned yourself out of a job you really like or need. Get away for a while and if money and time do not allow then go to Audubon Park and sit under a tree. Too hot? The lose yourself in a movie (not a netflix, I mean a real go-to-the-movies-and-eat popcorn outing); lay by a pool for the day -- sneak into a hotel pool if need be (these on desperate times that call for desperate measures. Just do something to head off going stark raving mad.
A complete melt-down is not something I expect to encounter; but to be on the safe side it’s time to take a chill pill -- for I am truly beginning to melt at the edges. And that pill comes in the form of a trip to my beloved Fairhope on Mobile Bay.
A trip around the world couldn’t thrill me as much as swimming among a lifetime of memories in the waters of my hometown bay. alongside jumping mullets in my Alabama estuary I have almost forgotten what life outside the French Quarter is like. But as I put the ole Gone Fishin’ sign on the door and get ready to blow this joint for a couple of daysam humming pack up all my cares and woes, here I go, bye bye black mood.
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