The ride has finally stopped.
I am surprisingly shocked that my husband has not marched into our lawyers office and asked him how much a quickie divorce would run him. (there probably wasn't time what with all of my demands of him)
These last 2 weeks have kicked. my. arse.
As we all know, I am a fragile flower. A princess in crabs clothing.
I will work hard, don't get me wrong. I will work like a dog making funnel cakes in a boiling hot Coke trailer in 100 degree temps for the band. I will rise at 3am to clean, organize and stock the concession stand. I will take my mother in law to 1,254 doctors appts. and pick up 92 prescriptions while running a restaurant and the Villa (home) I will make everyone's hair cut appointments, maintain laundry, mess with smelly, needy, barfy dogs, deal with spoiled boys, shop for ridiculous jeans that cost more than my first car, answer annoying phone calls all day, interview losers that really have no interest in a job, listen with feigned interest to employees and their personal issues, field snarky customer complaints, put up with call-in-sickers/no shows/last minute time off for a vacation requesters/managers on 11 day vacations.
I will smile through it all with a relatively decent attitude, carefully applied lipgloss and good hair (with feathers! PUT A BIRD ON IT!)
But if it could have gone wrong these last few weeks, IT SO DID.
We had an kitchen exhaust fan die, an ac unit break and then freeze up continuously (it was 110 degrees), 3 long-time employees quit, another broke her arm, a fire in the walk-in freezer (!), backed-up drains, the hiring/training/babysitting of many new employees, my MIL's illness, family visiting from out of town (his and mine- I am thankful for mine, oh, and his too, I think), changing work rules to benefit everyone even though it pissed people off, running almost every shift short-handed or with new hires, the computer terminals going insane and not working during breakfast rush, unbearably hot and dry weather, a shipment of rotten lettuce, problems with our dairy orders/Pepsi orders, a possessed coffee grinder, blown breakers, coffee makers not heating or brewing correctly (we sell 35,000 cups of coffee a year) and other things I am forgetting.
It seems like so much more when you are there every single day (which I usually am NOT)
My husband is smooth. Relaxed even. Goes with the flow.
"These things happen all the time, honey. It isn't a big deal"
Me? I try. I do! I go and go and go and then I eventually freak out and call him 24 times a day.
Yesterday was the last straw.
The computers were down and the servers were hand-writing the tickets while I jiggled wires and unplugged terminals and re-booted things and I finally called him and said to "get up her right now because I am done"
A few hours on the phone and it was fixed.
The long hours and lack of sleep had done me in.
And he says "welcome to my life"
I appreciate you Mr. Funny!! You are a rock star! I love you!! You wear many hats and I am a hatless, unworthy dork.
Things are back to normal tomorrow.
Back to my 3 days of work a week instead of 7. My 8-3 shifts.
I can finally clean my house and shop for groceries (hasn't been done for 2 weeks), brush the dogs and yell at the kids and start my new book. Talk on the phone to my sisters. Maybe watch some shows. And have a drink.
Date night tomorrow. Visit my mother in law and all of the family in town who are leaving Monday. And possibly a weekend away.
These came in the mail today.
Have a great weekend.