Confused Woman!

It has been a lllllooooonnnngggg……time since I have posted. Call it part laziness, part stress, part “life just gets in the way” and then there’s that little thing called a 100 year pandemic. Yep, I have a lot of excuses, and some are actually legit!

Well, basically, that’s not true. I have no good excuses (except for the last one) so I have decided now is the time to dive back in, get back in the saddle, walk off a short cliff and start writing. With the holidays and a pandemic going on, I figured I might have a thing or two to talk about, right?

So, let’s just start with the pandemic and what a mental train wreck I have become. I have always been an anxious person, but with COVID, it has taken my anxiety to Mars and back. I wash and sanitize my hands so much they look like I’m a hundred and three. When my daughter would come home from school (before it was switched to distance learning) I would insist she take off her “COVID clothes” and throw them in the washing machine before she sat down on any furniture.

When we would go to the stores, we were masked, and I dashed around the aisles like it was an obstacle course in the Olympics. I could dodge, weave, freeze, and pivot with such precision and speed. It was a thing of beauty. If someone dare creep into my 6 foot personal space, I would give the evil eye and zoom around them like they were a venomous snake. I thought I was smart and brave while my daughter laughed and ran away from me like I was a crazy circus attraction.

This has been going on since March and I am either really good at it, or I have completely lost my mind and become a shell of my former self. Whatever it is, I am looking forward to a time when I can calmly walk around a store, actually see people’s mouths, and have hands that don’t look like they constantly need medical attention.

Hey, I figured it wasn’t enough to have a full-time and one part-time job so why not add another part-time job? I mean seriously…who doesn’t like to work, right?

Well, that’s not exactly the truth. The reality is being a server is very hard work and this old body and brain can’t handle it. At the end of a shift, I am mentally and physically exhausted and can wring the sweat out of my uniform.

There’s a reason why I’m the mom of the servers…they’re all high school and college kids who run circles around me. They’re done with a shift and ready to hit the town while I’m ready to hit my bed.

So, I’m scaling back my hours there and working for a delivery service at a SuperTarget. I’m still running around getting items for clients, but I don’t have the mental stress of managing several tables, dealing with demanding members, all while wearing a flight attendant grin.

Does the shopping pay the same as being a server? Nope. Will I have my sanity and freedom from back pain at the end of a shift? Yes. We’ll see how it goes but for now, these two jobs are a nice compliment to each other and don’t interfere with my day job or time with my daughter so why not?

To make some extra money, I decided to take a part-time job as a server.  I thought it would be a great way to make extra money. During the interview,  I confidently said I have no doubt I will be a good server because I was one in high school and was a flight attendant several years ago.

I went into training and was thinking, “This won’t be too bad. I know I can memorize all of the menus, table/chair numbers and the POS system.  It will be a piece of cake to manage several orders. No problem.”

Wow, was that a bunch of naïve and overconfident thoughts. After three nights of training in the dining rooms and bar, I still felt like I didn’t have a clue as to what I was doing. The first night on my own, I thought the world was going to collapse. I had only two tables, but it felt like I had 50.

I had such a fear of messing up food orders that I could barely keep track of what people wanted. When it was time to open bottles of wine, I couldn’t get the stupid opener to work and had to have two members open the bottles for me. How embarrassing.

I managed to get through the first night and then I had a week off. When I had to return last night, I felt like I was starting all over again. I only had three tables, but it was two tables and one needy table that felt like 20 people instead of 7.

Questions were asked about food items that I didn’t know and drinks were ordered that I had no idea how to make. Everyone who works there is great and helpful, but I felt bad having to ask several times how to do things.

Luckily, the members are very nice and understanding when I say I’m a “newbie”. They actually have fun with it and so we end up joking about it and all turns out fine. However, I know the point will come when I won’t have new status anymore and I can’t use that excuse.

After a shift, I’m completely exhausted and ready to get off of my feet. Considering I’m more than double the age of the college kids working with me, I am glad I can somewhat keep up with them. They may have youth on me, but I have the maturity and personality to handle difficult situations and make the members happy.

I now have a newfound respect for anyone who is a server. If you have never been in the service industry, you have no idea how difficult of a job it is to make it look easy. It is way tougher than I ever would’ve imagined, yet at the end of the shift, I have a great sense of accomplishment and glad I gave the members a nice dining experience.

Soon I will be starting a part-time serving job to pay off bills, which is in addition to my full-time day job. Am I excited? Yes and no. It will definitely help money-wise but it will be a huge adjustment.

Currently, I have my daughter the majority of the time. That will change once I start this part-time job. Her dad and I will go to an every other week schedule. There’s part of me that is so sad to have less time with her. The guilt at times is too much.

However, I know this is a short-term situation and in the end it will benefit both of us to pay off some debt and have money to do fun stuff. The thought of working 70 hour work weeks twice a month is cringe worthy, but there will be benefits.

It will be an opportunity for me to meet new people and learn about the restaurant industry, including food and wine pairings, which is fun and interesting. I will be on my feet for the entire shift, several days per week. So, this will be a great way to be paid to exercise. Also, there will be little time to park my butt on the couch to watch TV and snack! 🙂

Okay, this is a joke…kind of. I’m thinking of getting a part-time job to pay off bills and save money for the future. Problem is, being a single parent and having my daughter the majority of the time, I don’t have a ton of hours to work outside of my full-time job.

So, I thought I would get creative to see what jobs I could find with my limited time available and that actually pay a decent wage. There are opportunities out there, but you have to be careful because all are clearly not legit.

I would love to work from home doing computer work, but am leery of these companies that promise you the moon and the stars. Are they for real or is it a total scam? I then looked at other opportunities, such as donating plasma.

You can get paid up to $300 per month donating. Great! Sounds easy enough so sign me up! Well….not all is at it appears. I went to the clinic and it was an experience and education.

The initial visit is at least two hours and you may/may not get to donate depending on the outcome of the binder you read, the video you watch, and the medical assessment you go through.  There are lots of questions to answer, including one where they asked me if I had ever been paid for sex. My answer was no, but my response to the technician, “Hah! I wish!”

Granted, these are all very important questions, but frustrating when you’re ruled out after hours of complying and waiting because you’re taking antibiotics for a few days. Why couldn’t I have been told that in the binder I read when I walked in the door?!

After that, I joked that maybe I could sell my eggs? Isn’t there a market for people who cannot conceive on their own? I’m sure they’re worth quite a bit. Then I remember, “Oh, that’s right. I’m 46 not 25. Mine are all old and shriveled up. I couldn’t sell them if I wanted to.”

Well, there goes the easy and entertaining ways to earn extra money. Guess I’ll have to go the boring route and get a real part-time job. Hello Uber!  😉

For those of you who don’t know me, or know me well, I am incredibly stubborn. I want to run the show and I don’t want to be told what to do…ever. I will however, listen and follow rules when necessary (i.e. I’d like to keep my job and stay out of trouble with the law).

When it comes to not feeling well or being full-blown sick, I like to think I don’t need the doctor and can take care of it on my own. This does work at times, but when it doesn’t, it makes me want to kick my stubborn butt into the next county.

For example, a couple of years ago, I was working a tech job at a local high school. I thought I had come down with a bad cough, so I loaded up on over the counter meds. It was only after the school nurse told me I had a 104 degree fever and to head straight to urgent care, did I learn I had pneumonia. I was down for the count for a couple of weeks. Oops.

This past week, I was having an issue with something all women have dealt with. Usually, I can treat it on my own with store-bought meds and a ton of cranberry juice. After several days, no improvement, and my tolerance for pain was gone, I caved and went to Virtuwell.com.

If you’ve never checked out the site, I highly recommend it. It’s perfect for common ailments that you don’t want to wait in urgent care for two hours to get treated. I logged in, gave my symptoms, and in 30 minutes, I had a treatment plan and a prescription filled. Nice!

So, is there a moral to the story? I don’t know. Part of me likes to think I can still self-treat, but at the same time, I could probably save a lot of time and money if I just “buck up” and use the health benefits I pay for.

Last Monday, two months before my birthday, I decided to give myself a challenge. I wanted to push my buttons and get up the motivation to cut back on drinking, exercise more, and cut back on junk food.

The giant 47 was looming in my thoughts and making me think long and hard about where I want to be physically, mentally, spiritually, and fiscally. When my mom was 47, I was engaged to my first husband. Where am I at? I am a single mother to a 9 1/2 year-old daughter. How times and lives have changed!

My situation and struggles are far different than I thought they would be at this age. I pictured being happily married, kids, pets, and financially secure with the white picket fence. Well, none of that is reality except for the kid and pet.

Of course I love my daughter and cat to pieces, I just wish things weren’t so challenging at times. I would love to shop at Whole Foods or Nordstrom and not care how much I spend.  It would be great to never worry about paying bills and be able to jet off somewhere warm for spring break.

However, that is not where I’m at and I have to be okay with it. I’m also not where I want to be regarding health and fitness, hence, the challenge. I want to be healthy and strong to take on what life throws at me and not run to Papa Murphy’s or the liquor store to make me feel better. Short term it helps to forget, long term it makes you gain weight, get out of shape, and spend too much money.

The first week has gone very well.  I have lost 6 lbs. and have exercised more and cut back on drinking and junk. It feels really good to push the demons aside, focus on the positive, and get back on track to the woman I was before divorce and job loss got in the way.

Well……last week I told you about my upcoming date with a man I connected with on POF.  Now, I will share what an epic disaster it was, and how I will never put myself in that situation again.

After weeks of talking and texting, I was thinking he might be someone I would like to meet and possibly date.  Friday, I was a nervous wreck, waiting for work to be over so I could head to his house.

Everything about him seemed promising on paper (or a computer monitor in this case). We got along really well, had common interests, and he didn’t have a lot of baggage or issues (that I knew of).

I pulled up to the house he was staying in (he was renting a room in a friend’s house) and was cautiously optimistic. His roommate opened the door and she was very nice.  Her daughter was adorable. Their puppy was cute! Things are looking good! I could see myself spending time with these people…and then…he walked around the corner.

I was shocked and immediately shut down…Tiny Tim was walking towards me, making direct eye contact. His profile said an average height and I could almost rest my elbow on his head….and I’m 5’3″!!  Yuck!

My first reaction was I wanted to run out of there and never look back. However, being the nice person I am, I stayed and asked for a drink. I had zero interest in him, but why ruin a perfectly good evening, right?

Wrong! It was SO awkward!!!! I’m sure he could tell something was up when he would try to sit next to me or hug me and I would squirm and dodge to avoid him. I was so incredibly disappointed and mad he basically lied on his profile. You can’t say you’re 5’9″ when you look like you should be riding a horse in the Kentucky Derby!

We went out to dinner and as we were waiting for the check, I confessed and said I was not feeling it and didn’t think there was a connection. I prayed he wouldn’t be mad, since I was supposed to stay at his house that night (dumb move).

Luckily, he handled it well, and was okay with being friends. We decided to make the best of the night and go out to a couple bars and have fun. However, he forgot I was in friend mode and proceeded to make moves on me the entire night. I was so repulsed….I don’t want to kiss my grandpa!

Also, during dinner, he told me he and his female friend (whom he said he had a “platonic” relationship with) will sleep in the same bed, naked, kiss, and cuddle/spoon (insert gag reflex here!) but not fornicate (his word, not mine).

I told him, “I don’t do that with my guy friends. That is not normal.” Another disappointment and red flag to add to the utter disappointment and disgust I had experienced all night.

I went to sleep in his bedroom and he slept on the couch. I had the family dog on my bed to guard me from grandpa. I woke up at 7:30 and was out of there by 8. I gave him a quick hug goodbye, and got the hell out of there!

I’ve never been so happy to see my house and my cat after that fiasco. There’s no place like home. Lesson learned…if you’re meeting for the first time, DO NOT meet at someone’s house, no matter how nice and “perfect” they seem.

Going forward, I will only meet in a neutral place for coffee. That way, if he walks in and I’m disappointed/repulsed, I can have a quick latte and bail. It also reinforces the idea of maybe not relying on the online dating apps to meet Mr. Right. It’s so easy for people to lie, exaggerate, and deceive you.

Bye-bye to online dating for now. I’m okay hanging with my cat, daughter, friends, and family!

Well, after many, MANY views of repulsive and disturbing POF profiles, I lucked out and found what appears to be a decent guy. He has normal pictures, is gainfully employed, and didn’t ask to meet up for sex in the first email.

At first I was hesitant to even text given the large creep factor on POF.  However, I was pleasantly surprised that we had nice communications.  A bonus? The phone calls were even better.

He has a very nice, deep voice that is warm and friendly.  Plus, he made me laugh and feel at ease, which is important.  It was great he sent photos of him and his grandkids, not a D pic.

We’ve been talking/texting for the past few weeks and we’re finally meeting this weekend. Part of me is really excited and part of me is very nervous. What if he turns out to look nothing like the pictures? What if he comes across as sweet and funny over the phone but is boring and mean in person?

Based on what I’ve seen, I seriously doubt the latter will be true.  I’m cautiously optimistic we will have a great time, good conversations, and hopefully, a second date!

My hairdresser had suggested I create a profile on Plenty of Fish, because she had success meeting her husband there.  So, on a Friday night, I figured why not. I filled out the profile, loaded a few pictures, and waited.

The emails weren’t flying in, so I thought I’d check out the men that were recommended.  Wow, I was stunned. I wasn’t prepared for the crude, disgusting images I was about to see.

There was the pot smoker, the serial killer, the man who vomited and wiped it off of his face, the public restroom selfie, and the anonymous photo.  Oh, and then there was the picture of my ex-husband’s old boss.  Awkward!

After awhile, I went from utter disappointment to hysterically laughing.  How can these men possibly think women would be attracted to these profiles?! They’re either insane, don’t give a rip, or both.

By some miracle, I did find a nice man to chat with.  We’re hoping to meet in person soon after many texts and phone calls.  Who knows what will happen, but at least he had a photo and a personality that didn’t resemble a cheating husband or a total jerk!