Home 'Sweat' Home

                               Really? It's the eighth of October, for Pete's sake!

Orlando has to be one of the deodorant capitals of the entire country. You begin to sweat the exact moment you open the front door of your house, pretty much every day.

I'm not complaining, I much prefer hot over cold as long as the air conditioning is working. I've been a server since I was nineteen years old and trust me, have sweated every single shift.

It makes me feel like I'm working hard...which I usually am anyway, so it's no sweat to me (pun intended).

Right now, as I type (a few hours later) we're having our daily downpour which cools things off and that's okay with me as well.

If you had asked me last year on this very same day if I was happy living here, it would have been extremely hard to hear the answer over my loud sobbing.


This year, I feel pretty stinking good about living here in the sunshine state after ole Jed got transferred with his new job.

"First thing you know, ole Jed's a thousandaire, the Boss man said, Jed move away from there.The  Sunshine State is the place you oughta be, so he loaded up his trunk and moved to Orlandee. Florida that is... retention pools and Disney stars."

It took me almost a year but good things happen to those who wait. I love going to the beach when I just have a couple of hours to spare, or over to my brother's dock on the lake if I have a few minutes to spare.

I've always been close with my daughter, Massey and didn't think we could become any closer but I was wrong...again.

Last year when I felt like I was losing my mind, she reminded me that most people (including her and my youngest son) already thought I had so what did I have to lose...and to just prove them wrong.

I think I may just have.

I didn't think we would survive the financial debacle we had in Georgia, but we did.. with tons and tons of help and love. We survived the move in true Clampett style with hitches in our plans every mile of the way, but got here.


Then after my breakdown, found a job which has turned out to love me...for simply being me.

I've had three managers in my almost forty year career as a server (and have worked at quite a few restaurants) who have not only driven but inspired me.

Hands down, Scott was my first mentor. The year was around 1980.  He taught me how to adult. He taught me if you work hard, it makes work not only a lot easier but much more rewarding.


Fast forward decades.

This guy.

He introduced me to fine dining, wine and the world of  aperitifs and digestifs. He hounded me, relentlessly for almost six months...correcting and urging me on. We had two managers at the time, I called them "Bad Cop / Good Cop." Guess which one Damir was?

He was the one who made it possible for me to become a pretty awesome server.


It was the job of a lifetime and hands down saved my family.

It served its purpose, but you gotta roll with the flow.

I like all my new managers. The GM  is a hard sell (most are) but both other managers seem to really like me. The assistant GM has worked her way into spot number three.

After about six months of working there, she came up to me one day and said the nicest thing I've ever had a boss say to me since moving here.

She told me I was the most giving person she has ever met. I don't have a lot to give, but I always have some candy or sweets for the dishwashers and cooks. I cooked meals a couple of times a month for a cook who's father was battling cancer and delivered them to their front door.

I show up on time to work and in a good mood. I work from the time I clock in until the time I clock out.

Sometimes I'll say something funny and she will say "I love you so much."

One of the bartenders the other night (after I made one of my witty comments) said "Sometimes I think the only reason I work here is to work with you."

Here's the thing.

What you put into this universe will always come back and help complete yourself.

So my manager is leaving us. I want to be mad but she got a well deserved promotion and will be leaving our restaurant.

She is a six foot tall beauty who recently cut and donated her hair, which used to come down to her booty.


I will miss her and always be grateful for the fact that she gets me.

I feel lucky I just got to work with her at all.

PS...Here comes my girl.

Thanks for loving me Megan, and I love you too.

Go kick life out of the park, and know you will.

Till next time...COTTON