Wash That Job Right Outta Yo Hair

amazing how this works

I woke up this morning and was rested.
My motivation has re-entered the room.
My sense of calm has shown it's face again.
Amazing what happens when you quit a toxic job and all the toxic people.
It felt great to delete them from my life, my social media and my cortisol level.
I'm not sure if all of this was brought on by my own brain or if things really turned for the worse and I just lost my sense of reality within the work space.
It does not matter one bit now!

Don't think I didn't cry or think " Am I making a mistake?"

What if, what if , what if.

Don't think I didn't question all the people I confided in at work.

How could they be so back-stabbingly cruel?

not just to me, but to many.

The Passive Aggressive Buddhist is the one that really got me.

I shouldn't admit it , but I did think about ways I could bring that person down at work...

But I knew it would not make me feel better in the long run.

But I still hope that the Karma Goddess gets them in some way.

Although from the person's history....Karma is constantly getting them, but they are too stupid to see.

That brings me some joy.

I did lose a few people who I really thought were my friends.

That is what I get for thinking and you would think I had learned this from divorce, but apparently i'm a bit of sympathetic person.

(Ie : idiot)

I laughed silently this morning as I walked through the grocery store; smiling at people and feeling....normal. 
I didn't think, " man, if I just drive into a tree I won't have to go to work tomorrow and see those people."
You know what else I learned?
That is not a normal thought process.
I believed all people thought about hurting themselves so that they didn't have to go to work.
My therapist informed me otherwise. 
so that's good.
I have started listening to this audible called 
Just Let Them Theory 

Pretty good info.  

With all of this said my new job training begins on the 13th.  

As I reflected back on my last position I now know what I want, and don't want, from a job situation.  

I've learned :

To stay private.  

To not do more than your job description states, unless paid.

To always remember it is a business and they don't care about you, per se.

That I can leave when it is not filling my needs.

I don't need to have guilt about anything job related.

And my opinions are best kept silent unless it is part of my job description, which it is not.

All of this new found information is going to bring my sense of self respect back, my cortisol level to normal, and my loving heart back from the depths of the hateful....

hopefully.

I'm taking quite the pay cut, 

so I better get something out of it 

Hopefully all of this will slowly sink in and I will be able to do some change for the better also.

I'm sure I could use it, too

write ya later,

m

Friday Night is Sushi Night at my House

A new Study has revealed a rise in tapeworms in humans from eating sushi.
Gross...

Helminths are not your friend, in any form. (giving myself the heebie jeebies)

"No, your eyes are not playing tricks on you. That really is a little worm squirming all over your sashimi. This is not some ghetto sushi joint, so WTF? It happens. Each year around 2,000 Japanese fall ill from worms found in raw fish -- (nigiri and sashimi rather than the mayo playground that's called sushi). No, no, not tape worms...but tiny little worms about half an inch long known as Anisakis simplex."

Years ago one of my first jobs was at a place called Pier 98 in Destin, Fl. I wasn't real picky at what I had to do for a first job. I had arrived at this place at 15 after a too long stint of babysitting and after sleepwalking, while babysitting triplets, I thought it would be in my best interest, and the families I worked for, if I found a new calling. Many of my friends worked in the kitchen at this semi high end tourist place so I thought, "what better gig could I get? I get to hang with my friends on a Friday and Saturday night then have fun later." I never really thought about being the only chick working behind the line....I just thought ...cool 4.25$ an hour?...I'll take it!

Little did I know what I was in for.

I started as a dishwasher. I loved it. All the leftover food you could eat. note for future dishwashers of America.... people never finish their chocolate mousse, and if you have a thing for mashed potatoes, there are always plenty of those also. I didn't care...wash the dishes, restack the dishes, eat the leftovers...and occasionally a waiter would slip me some money to save a "one bite taken off" of Filet Mignon.
I would hear them arguing.
"Table 5 hasn't even touched her steak...that is sooooooo mine." "Yeah if you fuckin bus the table like you are supposed to." "Whatever, Dude, we will split it."
Then they would show up at my slophole of a station and give me some foldin money to "hold that plate" when it comes back. No problem, losers...i don't eat steak...and I'll take your foldin money too.
Eventually the others figured out I was making cash on the side and I was given the opportunity to progress to a better job.
The Fish Room.
I stood in a room full of ice, fresh fish , a large black man, who possibly just escaped from prison, who wielded a filet knife like a Samurai....and no clean shot EXIT door. Once we bonded as co workers I was told what to do on a daily basis. Usually it went something like this: peel 50 pounds of shrimp and butterfly, shuck as many oysters as your feeble girl(he possibly said Bitch) hands can, then head your white ass over here and pull worms.
????????
No...no helminths.
NO NO NO...
"Little Red (my prison name from large black man), It's your job...get your scrawny white ass over here."

Never once in the time I worked in the fish room did I think it was an option to quit. (that didn't happen until I progressed to Fry Bitch) So, I pulled worms.
They filet the fresh Gulf fish, throw it up on a table, where I would take my young nimble fingers, grasp the wiggly part of the worm, and pull. Sometimes I would fret that it broke inside...maybe it didn't come all the way out...could I have possibly missed a side?
Until my prison friend said, "Fuck it, Lil Red, too many worms to pull, not enough time. Those rich fuckers haven't a clue...worms in their fuckin stomachs...hah! Red, this why I don't eat nothin with worms or nothin that hasn't been fried to God's Sweet Heaven" (in my mind I was picturing God frying mullet til it was a perfect crunchy piece of crap fish which you can eat wrapped in paper with ketchup...fins and all).

Prison Buddy is a smart man.

I stayed at this job until I actually didn't mind it anymore....then they moved me to salad and dessert fairy(notice how this has a nice name)...I must say...I don't miss the worms...But I do miss Prison.
So, Sushi Fridays are still the same. I rarely think about it anymore, but I thought I would leave you with this gift for your Sushi Friday or Saturday...or whatever. Enjoy, and remember...fried to "God's Sweet Heaven" may be a motto you would like to adopt.