Today was, to put a positive spin on it, challenging. I was in a fantastic mood this morning, until I walked into work. I really like to just leave work at work, but let's just say that I am sick and tired of being treated disrespectfully by managers, two of them specifically. I am closer to thirty than thirteen, and truly do my job with the utmost of professionalism. The longer I work here, the more I feel the need to branch out on my own. More than anything, I want to own my own bar. It seems so far away, so out of reach. And the only reason I say that is because of the financial risk, and capital needed to even think about doing it. I am 100% positive that if $100,000 fell into my lap, I would open an incredibly successful restaurant and bar. Perhaps, I need to focus on that fact, and that will help me to secure the capital that I need. It's not like right now, with Adam in the military and our lives so transient and up in the air, is really a good time to be thinking about it anyway. Still, it's days like today that really get me thinking.
Taylor is still amazing. It's because of her that I am able to leave work at work every day. When I am not in that building, none of the nonsense that goes on there matters even a little bit. (On a side note, I am watching biggest loser for the first time. What is so addicting about watching morbidly obese people try not to eat cupcakes and sweat all over themselves? It's almost wrong.)
Anyway, she didn't cry when she saw me today at Darina's. It felt good. I know that I say it doesn't bother me when she does; but maybe it does smart just a little. We left Darina's and headed to Costco for diapers and wipes. I decided while we were there that we would stay for dinner...lol. So we shared a slice of pizza and a churro. That's when it happened. I feel like I say that alot, "that's when it happened". It happens a lot when you aren't expecting it and you have a 14month old. It is usually messy, smelly, crying, hurt, bleeding, poopy, peeing through its diapers, snotty, drooling, throwing food, or eating something gross. Not that it is Taylor, just usually something yucky or terrifying that she does. She was sitting next to me on the picnic bench, eating pizza, and all of a sudden she fell backwards- on her head- in front of a bunch of people. Immediately I scooped her up, after gasping "oh my god!", and comforted her; and that must have eased the upsetness of the surrounding parents because everyone resumed their pizza and hot dog eating. Her crying was brief, as it always is - perhaps because her attention is also brief. For churro time, she sat securely in the cart. At home it was business as usual, and before I knew it, I was putting her to bed and hadn't even changed out of my work clothes.
On a positive note, the class six called to tell me that my special order beer was in. I had gone in and asked them if they could order some "Ironhorse Irish Death", which is a draft that I'd had at McNamara's in Dupont. It's brewed in Ellensburg, WA and is perhaps my favorite beer ever. They call it a dark smooth ale. I call it heaven in a glass. It's dark, and malty, and delicious. I bought a case, which is 12 22oz bottles. I plan on either saving or buying more for Adam.
Time to take the dog out.
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