They gave me Thursday through Saturday off from work for Thanksgiving. I would have liked to spend another day back in Georgia but when your ride leaves...you do too.
My brother loves us, in small doses.
He woke me up at 7 AM on Friday and five minutes later were zooming down the road back to Orlando. He's a no stop kind of guy so I kicked back and slept the first three hours.
We got back to Orlando a little before two in the afternoon. I got some things done around the house and enjoyed time with Massey and her visiting bestie from Atlanta.
Seemed silly to take Saturday off too so offered to work if anyone wanted off. I picked up a closing shift. I didn't have to be there until six but also had to stay until closing at one. I like picking up on my days off. Even if the shift sucks it's still more than you'd make sitting at home painting your nails while drinking cheap wine.
It wasn't overly busy but once it started getting busy, felt like I hadn't worked in six months. Plus by then everyone else had been cut and were trying to scurry out, wanting me to stop and check their side work so they could go home... or out with friends.
When I got seated with an eight top on top of my five other tables I kinda fell apart.
I settled back into a groove by ten and the last three hours were a piece of cake. I didn't get off until after 1:15 AM but had lounged around the house all day so I was good.
I'm a creature of habit. Take me out of my habitat for more than a day and need training wheels to get started again, especially being this new on the job.
It actually felt weird in a way, going back to Georgia for just a day. I felt like an outsider, even with people I've known for decades. It felt like I had abandoned one life for another.
It began with my two Sib's at 2545 Bayard Street, the middle included all others I met in Georgia and my end will be in Orlando.
Sometimes when change is good for you, also seems hard to take...for you and them.
I have quite a lot of adjusting to do, and so do they. My take on it is "Home is where the heart is, and I have two."
No matter how much longer I do live, will be the shortest chapter from now on. That's kinda scary but what can you do about it?
Here's what I plan on doing.
Make every day count.
Make sure I am an honest, decent human being.
Love others...even ones I don't like.
The only thing I will ever truly hate is Rutabagas.
Pay it forward every chance I get.
Work harder than necessary so I'll stand out as a motivator...and hopefully motivate others.
Be prepared if I die with the next breath I take, will be fondly remembered by all who ever crossed paths with me.
Always wear clean underwear in case the one above happens.
Beginning again at (almost) fifty seven sounds like an oxymoron. Guess I'm beginning my end.
I want to end with a bang...and will.
Til next time...COTTON