Forty Days and Forty Nights

I guess I didn't even need to read the book to find out the formula! I just hit the forty day mark in my current work week and discovered the formula all on my own.

Hard work pays off.

I clocked out at 11:00 and had twenty minutes to make the 11:20 MARTA train back to the parking lot or have to wait another twenty for the 11:40. Waiting twenty minutes when you're beat like a drum makes a huge difference in how you feel at the end of yet another long day. Got off the plane train at 11:17 and ran up the escalator to the terminal, rounded the corner and fast walked all the way to the MARTA station. Everyone in front of me was running, with the same goal in mind so I gave in and jogged through the turnstiles and flat out ran up the escalator behind them as they were all all shouting up to other friends already on top "Make it wait, hold the doors, don't let it leave!"

I slid in as the bell started to ding, letting you know the train was departing. The doors shut when I saw a co worker, actually the girl who was wonderful enough to get me on at the airport appear at the top of the stairs hustling her way over to the train when it took off with her less than five feet from the door.

Been there done that!

It's a terrible feeling. Number one you're already exhausted from a long hard shift and totally out of breath from running, And number two now you have twenty more minutes to wait before another train comes. When you miss the train by seconds (like I did the other night) it makes you wish you had just taken your time and slowly walked to the train. That way you aren't worn out from running and will have less time to wait for the next one.

It's all been a learning experience for me. First off learning how to even find my way to security in domestic. Then I learned how to catch the Sardine Shuttle and go through security at the International terminal where the lines are much shorter.

Then I had to learn how to become what seemed like a brain surgeon in fourteen days. Then much to my amazement they thought I was trained enough to be one and put me on the floor. Then I learned how to fake it til I could make it.

I've learned every short cut from every person I could, from how to get to the plane train quicker to how to get off it quicker.

I now have my Masters degree in navigating a MARTA parking lot to find a good spot to park and my PHD in planning exactly, down to the minute what time I need to leave the house on certain days for work.

Unbelievably I called Mama Lucia's to see what time I worked on Thursday and Friday and found they hadn't scheduled me at all on Thursday.

I'm picking up another shift at the airport on Thursday, just asked if I could work the three thirty shift which will give me until two before having to leave the house.

I'd really like a day off, but if  work another shift at the airport will be closer to being able to do so.

After that last good Shopper Report, think they like me more.

I have a few errands to run in the morning but will be just fine going in at three thirty. If I took the day off, I'd be missing making maybe two hundred more dollars which is huge to us right now.

Yes I'm tired but exhilarated at the same time. I'm finally moving ahead, finding my groove in the new place and making a name for myself with the managers. They now all seem to realize what a hard worker they took a chance on and will benefit not only me but them as well.

Even some of the peeps who were pretty hard on me at first are easing up a bit on Granny Clampett.

I guess just like every new job, you have to prove yourself to be accepted.

This picture looks SO much like me it's scary. From the wrinkles and gray hair to the peepers perched on her nose, although you wouldn't catch me dead in that dress.

So I'll work another shift at the airport tomorrow (now today) and go back to Mama Lucia's on Friday for my weekly local performance.

I think Barb and Len know what's coming. As much as I love them both,  have to do what's best for my family and right now it's working this new job. If Tim moves up with this new company and eventually makes enough again to support us solely on his salary, I'll be happy as a clam to only have to drive seven minutes to work. I actually think they gave me Thursday off to let me HAVE a day off. It was gracious and sweet of them and the thought was wonderful but on the other hand gives me one more day to  bank big.

I've made enough to make a mortgage payment, making us only one month behind and next Thursday when  get paid from the airport will have another one making us current.

I can't say enough bad things about "Hells" Fargo, who currently holds our mortgage. For fourteen years were never late ONE time with a payment. When things went downhill for us their greedy pockets wanted our house, only four years away from pay off. They could take our house and sell it for a hundred percent profit.

Well, they can kiss my skinny little ninety eight pound butt.

I found a way to pay the mortgage when they wouldn't help us with modification or refinancing. As a matter of fact I've found a way to make two mortgage payments in one month.

They can stick THAT in their pipe and smoke it.

Barb has her faults, who doesn't? She can be a tough old bird but came by it honestly. Her father died when she was a toddler and grew up dirt poor with her mother and sister living with in laws who didn't even really want them. She's a miser and can pinch a penny until it screams.

For some reason, and think it's most probably because she's seen me struggle the entire four and a half years I've worked for them, has always had my back. She's loaned me money for utility bills scheduled to be cut off, money to make the mortgage payment and even money to buy dog food when my pups didn't have any. I affectionately call her "Mrs. Drysdale ". (the banker's wife from the Beverly Hillbillies)

Without her generosity and help,  would have never even made it this far.

Yes I feel tremendous loyalty to them both.

Len, her husband  is also wonderful to me... and wonderful isn't even in his vocabulary. Most of his words are four lettered. So what I've worked forty days in a row? That would be like a vacation to him. He's almost ten years older than I am and works seven days a week, EVERY week. He puts up not only with Mrs. Drysdale but with their son, Jethro who works for (and sometimes against) them.

Yes they are a dysfunctional family but living the American dream. Own their own business and adhere to their own rules.

These two people have helped me out time and time again, and you know why? It's because they know how hard I work. It's because they know I am loyal. It's because they have come to love me.

I love them both right back, and then some.

Going to bed, waking up tomorrow/today knowing that change is finally happening around here and is all for the better.

A very grateful and blessed COTTON.