Today I went to work tired and crabby. It seems most days lately I’ve been tired and crabby at work. I mope around tripping over my own feet because I don’t have the energy to keep my damned Crocs on. I can’t sleep because someone is taking up space in my mind. I’m not going to say this person isn’t worth it, but the mental self mutilation I’ve been going through certainly isn’t. The first thing I saw when I got to work was one of the servers sitting on the floor behind the cash register crying because of her on/off boyfriend and I came to a realization.
Waiting tables is a thankless job for (sometimes) little pay. I have no control over how many customers we have, how much they feel like tipping or what their attitude is. My financial well being is based on the generosity (or tight fistedness) of strangers. People can take their bad day out on me or they can bring a little joy to my night. There is so much I can’t control, but the one thing I can control is MY attitude.
Tonight I got a new attitude. I stopped caring and I felt good from my head to my shoes. The person taking up space in my head can be my friend. Or not. He can sulk at the back of the kitchen. Or not. He can be pissed at me. Or not. I don’t care anymore. I like my job and most of co-workers too much to worry about how one person feels or if I’m doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. Fuck that shit. I’ve been so down for the last month plus that I haven’t felt like going to work or writing about work. What’s the point in living if I can’t make fun of the assholes I encounter every day? I am NOT going to be that server sitting on the floor crying over someone who can’t decide. (And any of you co-workers who read this and want to run and tattle: Be part of the solution, not part of the problem.)
I had an absolute blast tonight. I flirted with my tables, danced to the music, and harassed my co-workers. I laughed right out loud. I enjoyed my job for the first time in a really long time. I slapped Amber on the underside of her forearm and she slapped the back of my arm sofa king hard that I screamed and went to my knees in the waitstation. Poor little Mrs. Rockefeller saw it all from the register and thought I was hurt, but my insane laughter kept her from coming to my aid. Later, Amber walked by as I was taking an order and ding-donged my braid so hard I thought my head was going to snap off. My table thought it was hilarious and Amber and I laughed til our sides ached. Eventually the kitchen caught on to our fun and before long everyone was laughing, slapping and punching each other.