Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Back From The Brink



           Every year or two I do the same thing, knowing full well it isn't going to end well for me.
(pun intended)


I work hard and I play hard.
I always have.






We finally moved into our forever home  here in Orlando about nine months ago.
I simply love it.
It screams 'Me'











I hit the ground(s) running and haven't stopped. I do all the yard work and wouldn't have it any other way. I appreciate the offer of help but am so meticulous when it comes to yard work, I get on their nerves.

Even more....




If you can believe that!!



I always dress to work in the yard just like I am dressed in the first picture of me above, in the lime green top and blue shorts.
Trust me, I also had on flip flops.

I don't mind working in the heat, but I gotta be as comfy and cool as possible...I still suffer from hot flashes.

I don't wear gloves, I just rip the weeds out or toss away the clippings by hand to be raked up later.
I've tried wearing work boots, hats and gardening gloves.
It's a miserably hot outfit to me.
I already wear one of those when I'm on the clock at work.
I want to be comfy at home.
Call me crazy, you won't be the first... or last.


It has been raining like crazy and my yards are blooming and booming like they're on herbal growth hormone.

I usually work four days a week, sometimes five.

On my three days off, I spend two of them doing the front back and both side yards.
On the days I work
I go to work around ten AM, get home around four.

I putz around in the house, feed and water the dogs and head straight out to our wonderful screened in  porch, or as they call it here, lanai.
(still not used to that word)

It has a pergola off the porch, and is an awesome place to chill as well.










How can you not  have a cocktail or two after a hard days' work?

I sit out there and write friends and family or blog on my iPad until eleven or so. Then I go to bed, get up...shower, rinse and repeat.
It's the yard days that got me.

I started feeling puny last Thursday after getting home from work and by Saturday after work felt pretty much like do-do.
By Sunday morning I knew I wasn't getting out of bed any time soon. Thank goodness I was off until Wednesday.
I'd be fine and dandy by then!
Then like an idiot, while scrolling through my phone while resting in bed, I see a Monday lunch shift up for grabs on our employee site.

My daughter told me to  not pick the shift up and stay in bed.
But an opening shift?!  I'd go in at ten thirty, be cut by one and back home in bed before two.
I took it!


By the time Monday morning rolled around, I felt like the dude in a black shroud with a sickle was close by, just waiting for me to try and get out of bed.

I got up and went in anyway...Mondays were always slow.




When am I going to learn?


I got to work, the bartender wasn't there yet, and our manager was setting the bar up. The first table walked in right before we opened. I had five tables going before the next server got there at 11:15. Then a ten top walked in. Then a six top. Then another six top. Then lucky for us, just a five top.
Oops, then another five top followed by two tables of four.

It was insanity and the insanity didn't stop until well after three o'clock. I was sweating like Trump at the Apollo Theatre in Harlem.

My sinuses were killing me, I had a fever, It sounded like a blender was going off in my chest when I inhaled and exhaled and my both ears were stopped up. My equilibrium was off and so was my timing.
I was a wreck but plowed ahead.
I apologized a lot and tried to stand as far away from the tables as possible so they couldn't see when the (luckily) clear snot began to trickle out of my nostrils.
I knew I wasn't contagious but really didn't think I should even bring up the fact that I didn't feel well.

I felt like collapsing.
But I didn't.

When my manager finally told me I was cut, I told them if they needed me I'd be on the floor in the dish pit.
(trust me, it's not a place to lay down)

Guess what time I clocked out from my little  Monday opening shift?

5:35 PM.

You usually sell around $300 on a Monday opening shift. 
I sold almost $1100.00 and by the Grace of God made almost $250.00 in tips.


I fell into bed around six on Monday night and didn't get out of it until Wednesday morning.
Massey brought me home day time and night time medicine when she got home from work and I gobbled it up. I've been taking it every four hours since then.

Tim let me vegetate and slept in the spare bedroom Monday and Tuesday.
Ziggy went with him...

that's how bad I looked, felt and sounded.

We had a bad storm blow across the lake on Tuesday morning, knocking out the cable, Internet and Wifi before noon.  I just stayed in bed, slept and stared at the wall while I was awake, then flipped and stared at the other wall after I woke up again.
The cable, Wifi and Internet stayed off until Wednesday evening.

It was kinda nice being so quiet inside the house that I could hear the crickets and frogs outside the house.


I went into work today feeling a little shaky but 99.9% better.

I'm not sure why I refuse to take better care of myself, but think I'm finally catching on at the tender age of almost sixty.

I got on the scale this morning after getting out of the shower and found that I'm back down to a ninety eight pound weakling.

I'll be back to  triple digits in no time!



You learn from mistakes. You'd better, especially at my age.
I took a licking but that clock's still ticking.
I wanna enjoy the home stretch as long as I can.

Everyone was so nice to me while I was feeling poorly. My family was, my neighbors were and all checked in to see if I needed anything. My managers and coworkers were super supportive as I bumbled my way through that horrifically long (controlled chaos of a) lunch shift.

Even when I'm sick, I'm blessed!

Till next time...COTTON




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