whoa, eyes dancing
Jan. 26th, 2005 12:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7Ever get tired enough that you're looking at the screen and the screen is moving just a little bit side to side? Bleh, that's the worst.
I had a pretty good day today. I broke $100 if you count the credit card tips, which I won't see for two weeks but I don't complain.
I'm going to see tomorrow whether I can pay all the bills. If not, a few people are getting phoned up. And if we can't pay the rent that's Dave's problem, as it's his mom who's the landlady. She said she'd help him financially go back to school: well, now's the time if ever.
Jesus, I am weary.
Did well $$wise this morning because the second server for the airport bar called in sick, which meant I had the place to myself instead of trying to split a pitifully small crowd among two people. Which meant I rushed around a bit but not a ton-- just enough that I was busy, which meant I stayed focused, and meant I got sympathy from customers who noticed I was busy and cut me some slack. (Which I didn't need, as I wasn't so busy I couldn't stay on top of everything. That's the paradox of busy-ness. If you're bored you forget things easily. if you're busy, you're much more on-task. But if they see you run, customers tip more because they think, 'that poor girl working so hard'. If they see you leaning on the bar chewing your nails in boredom, they tip poorly, thinking 'what a lazy bum', not 'that poor girl, given a sucky slow shift so she's barely making minimum wage.')
I did get some very good tips from people who noticed me running around tripping over things. I liked that. Makes up for the bruises. (Bars? Unsafe working conditions! There's always things sticking out to smack your thighs into, and things on the floor to trip over! Hazardous shit, yo.)
Didn't have time for so many good conversations, though. Oh well.
Gave Dave $300, all the tips I've been saving, and told him to sort out the car insurance, but he didn't. But that's ok, because-- he cleaned!! Not very much, but he did some tidying in the dinette, including a load of laundry, and started work on tomorrow night's dinner. !!! Perhaps all my screaming and wailing and depressive despair had some effect. Or, more likely, my giving up on any of that and just freaking leaving him alone about it, which is usually the wisest course.
I still think it would be far more clever of us to sit down, divvy up the household chores, and make a weekly schedule, but who has the time for that???
Am so tired. Think I'll stop typing and go to sleep. Don't know if I'm wound-down enough to, but I might try. I keep having a niggling urge to write little scenes for Non-Vikings Novel-- but not action scenes, or dramatic scenes. No. I want to write the mundane scenes of the daily life of the hero and heroine as a happy married couple in the three years between the novel's beginning and the actual plot, action, and climax of the novel. I dunno-- I just want to write cozy little scenes of them being happy and homemaking and shit. Weird, man. My brain is a weird place to go.
I had a pretty good day today. I broke $100 if you count the credit card tips, which I won't see for two weeks but I don't complain.
I'm going to see tomorrow whether I can pay all the bills. If not, a few people are getting phoned up. And if we can't pay the rent that's Dave's problem, as it's his mom who's the landlady. She said she'd help him financially go back to school: well, now's the time if ever.
Jesus, I am weary.
Did well $$wise this morning because the second server for the airport bar called in sick, which meant I had the place to myself instead of trying to split a pitifully small crowd among two people. Which meant I rushed around a bit but not a ton-- just enough that I was busy, which meant I stayed focused, and meant I got sympathy from customers who noticed I was busy and cut me some slack. (Which I didn't need, as I wasn't so busy I couldn't stay on top of everything. That's the paradox of busy-ness. If you're bored you forget things easily. if you're busy, you're much more on-task. But if they see you run, customers tip more because they think, 'that poor girl working so hard'. If they see you leaning on the bar chewing your nails in boredom, they tip poorly, thinking 'what a lazy bum', not 'that poor girl, given a sucky slow shift so she's barely making minimum wage.')
I did get some very good tips from people who noticed me running around tripping over things. I liked that. Makes up for the bruises. (Bars? Unsafe working conditions! There's always things sticking out to smack your thighs into, and things on the floor to trip over! Hazardous shit, yo.)
Didn't have time for so many good conversations, though. Oh well.
Gave Dave $300, all the tips I've been saving, and told him to sort out the car insurance, but he didn't. But that's ok, because-- he cleaned!! Not very much, but he did some tidying in the dinette, including a load of laundry, and started work on tomorrow night's dinner. !!! Perhaps all my screaming and wailing and depressive despair had some effect. Or, more likely, my giving up on any of that and just freaking leaving him alone about it, which is usually the wisest course.
I still think it would be far more clever of us to sit down, divvy up the household chores, and make a weekly schedule, but who has the time for that???
Am so tired. Think I'll stop typing and go to sleep. Don't know if I'm wound-down enough to, but I might try. I keep having a niggling urge to write little scenes for Non-Vikings Novel-- but not action scenes, or dramatic scenes. No. I want to write the mundane scenes of the daily life of the hero and heroine as a happy married couple in the three years between the novel's beginning and the actual plot, action, and climax of the novel. I dunno-- I just want to write cozy little scenes of them being happy and homemaking and shit. Weird, man. My brain is a weird place to go.
