Servers. We're an odd and eclectic bunch. As for me, I like the hours and fact that every shift is a payday. I worked streetside for thirty four years and shifts were normally four to five hours long and walked out with all my tips at the end of every shift.
Now I work at the world's busiest airport beyond the security checkpoints. The shifts range from seven to eight hours with two more hours of travel time, parking and security. Before I started parking at the international terminal it was four added hours of travel time. It was a great day when I could finally afford to park there.
One thing hasn't changed. I'm still a night owl and love the life. I usually get home and one or both kids are in bed or with Zach still at work. I can do whatever I want to do, watch whatever I want to watch and pretty much have the house to myself. I can put laundry in and blog while it runs or do some housework. Sometimes I don't go to bed until three o'clock. The earliest I have to be at work is one thirty in the afternoon and other days not until three.
I may go like a whirlwind but when I go down, go down hard. Unless I have something I have to get done before work usually wake up around nine and watch the news in bed with a cup of coffee.
It's so nice to wake up and the house be all neat and tidy from my late night prowling around the place. I think of it this way...if I stay up til three getting things done there's no shame in starting my day at ten AM.
Sometimes I clean baseboards or clean walls. Sometimes I rearrange furniture and sometimes I"ll get all crazy with the Murphy's Oil Soap and clean tables, chairs and window sills. Mopping the kitchen and bathrooms are silent chores which don't disturb the others sleeping in the house while I knock back a Natty Light and get all busy.
Nothing feels better to me than padding into my kitchen barefooted in the morning and walking onto a clean floor. We have three big dogs who have (of as today) never learned how to wipe their paws before coming in the back door. I keep a beach towel in a small basket by the back door but twelve paws are a lot to maintain.
It doesn't help that we've had more than our fair share of rain for what seems like months.
Tomorrow is my first day off in seven. I had grand plans for working in the yards but seems that's a NOT unless I use a boat to maneuver around the yard. My alternative plan will be inside projects.
Last year my son and one of his buddies put in this new kitchen floor for me. It's laminate but has held up well. I did the entire kitchen for a hundred bucks and change. I bought the flooring at a discount store who send me emails about sales they have. I got one the other day for Armstrong laminate stone look tiles they have on sale for $39.97 a case, marked down from $82.27. Our living room carpet looks horrible, don't ask me why I chose light blue carpeting when we bought this house. I must have been delusional (we had three young kids then) and throw in owning dogs continuously the past nineteen years, you do the math.
It's been pretty busy at work theses past few weeks and have all the bills paid, even putting away some more savings. I've decided with all this rain (and more predicted) to take my little bitty car and buy enough stone tile laminate to do the living room. Now that I have the garage cleaned out can store it there until I find someone to install it. We have a tri level house (another delusional choice) and have two staircases leading out of the living room. One long one to the upstairs bedrooms and a shorter one leading down to the dining room, kitchen, laundry room and Massey's room.
Here's my game plan. I'm gonna rip the carpet off both sets of stairs and simply paint the wood. My former neighbor who had the same floor plan as us did just that and her steps looked pretty good. I figure I can buy all the tiles this week and with my paycheck next week pay to have them installed. I'll do the stairs myself.
We also have a broken window in our dining room covered with two sheets of plexiglass and duct tape (from the outside) for almost three years. One summer while riding my Johnny Dear in the back yard cutting grass, threw a rock through the window.
Oops! ( my bad)
It's on the backside of our house so no one can see it but our dogs, but bothers me. It's two side by side windows but found a really neat large wooden picture window at the Habitat For Humanity Re Store that think (hope) will fit nicely. I'm going by there as well tomorrow to see if it fits the measurements of my broken one.
I'll be storing that in the garage as well, for a future paycheck installation.
Finally getting the house close to being a pretty good deal for someone to rent when we pack it up and all move to Orlando in late September to join my husband who is already living and working there. We have dependable renters lined up to move in when we exit stage left.
I'm still kinda freaked out about this next big change in our lives but learned at least one thing over these past few years.
Life is a journey.
We've rambled, searched and sometimes even been lost... but we'll get there, almost are.
My journey began about four years before this picture was taken. Most awesome parents ever, destined to have an incredible life.
Then somehow made to this.
Then somehow changed to this.
Without my sister and brother I simply wouldn't be here.
Two of the greatest people to ever walk this earth met, married and had three kids who I was fortunate enough to be one of.
They both left us way too early and still miss them each and every day.
Because of these two and all the love they showed and provided, now know the way myself.
It's really simple... and called The Golden Rule.
This world would be a better place if everyone lived by these words.
I know it's made me a better person. I'm far from the best (maybe the top of the middle) but consider myself a work in progress.
(fast forward a day...I'm a slow blogger)
Our move move to Orlando is starting to feel real.
Massey is flying down tomorrow to get her Florida driver's license and drive back up with her dad on Saturday so Tim and I can file our taxes. Massey has decided she's been "Daddyless" long enough and intends on moving down as soon as Tim finds us a place to live. Probably early Spring.
I'm going to miss her but understand completely. She's always been a Daddy's Girl. I'm more a Bossy Bestie but that's okay too.
I was at work tonight and three guys came in together and sat at a table for dinner. I kept looking at them and thinking I knew who they were. I heard them talking so knew they were Americans. I couldn't quite put my finger on it but when standing at the service bar waiting for drinks (right by their table) looked at the one guy's profile and the little hamster in my head began to run on it's wheel again.
When Massey was sixteen years old she had wanted to see a band coming to Atlanta. I kept promising her to buy tickets but was when we were broke as jokes. I could pay the house note or buy tickets to a concert. The house note won.
By the time I had money for tickets the concert was sold out. The day of the concert I told Massey and her friend to "Let's just drive down there and see if we can get in."
Why not? I had the night off.
We got there over two hours before the show with a line of people (with tickets) wrapped around a city block in downtown Atlanta. One staircase led into the building and another out. I marched us all up the out staircase and began chatting with the tremendously large security guard.
It took me over two hours but stood firm and told this security guy all about my life, our circumstances and that didn't matter how long we had to stand outside in the freezing temps, my daughter would be beyond thrilled if he could somehow, someway find us passes to go in.
They finally opened the doors and began to let people in. Less than two minutes later, the big dude came back with four guest passes; moved the ropes and let us in, telling us to enjoy the show. We were front row and the girls had the best night of their young lives.
I sent Massey a text while at the service bar to see if they were touring, thinking this may be them. One minute later I got a text "Not on tour... just ask if it's them!!"
I leaned over and said to them "Excuse me, can I ask if you are brothers?" When they said yes, knew my creeping skills were in high gear and ventured again, "By any chance are you Boyce Avenue?"
Guess what...momma be right yet again!
They were the most awesome humble guys. I told them my story of going to their sold out concert and that my daughter would faint if she was at work at the restaurant now. (also told them she worked there too, putting herself through college)
They all gave me their autographs for her, and even spelled her name right!
So I'm sending her off to Orlando in the morning with autographs I'm leaving on her dresser while she sleeps, hoping she kinda wants to be a Momma's Girl too.
Til next time... COTTON