So excited, preparing for work!

It’s almost Wednesday, why is the week going so slowly?!?! I have orientation for my new job on Monday, then find out my schedule. I so can’t wait! Why do I have to wait?! Very few people in my life know me well, well the old me, the me who enjoys working and getting paid. Heck, they don’t even know the me that loves Nike’s and coats, eating out and dining with friends; this girl has been hidden and denied too long.

It’s amazing how simply accepting a job has boosted my mood and confidence. It’s hard living life making ends meet but not having anything left to spend on fun…one can only do the same free things so many times before it no longer feels fun. Five years and I feel like I’m starting a new life, almost like leaving home for the first time. 

Today I bought a shirt for my first day and can’t wait to shop for another. Tomorrow I plan to hang our big white board and set it up to operate as our command center, with me being gone so much my son will need a place to look so he knows what will need to be done and a place to communicate (hold our notes) so we don’t forget. I don’t know what my schedules will look like but I do know opening and closing shifts are going to happen, this means pre-planning dinners and emphasising cooking lessons with my son are a must. I know he’d be happy if I gave him money to eat out most nights, but what’s the point in working if all the money goes to eating out. I feel so bad leaving him to his own devices, and a bit scared, but he’s almost 16 and knows how to manage and what’s expected, even if he chooses to not fulfill expectations 🙂 Funny, I never worried about him being home alone when he was younger, but then he just layed around playing games, now he hops buses and chills with friends…I guess me being here doesn’t make that big of a difference in what he does, huh? Until girls are involved at least.

Sunday surprise!!

Today was amazing! I woke up to a missed call from a box store that I applied to Friday. Surprisingly they wanted to interview me today, Sunday. So after 2 interviews and some paperwork I am now employed at said box store!! I can’t believe it, amazing Sunday!!

After 5 years as a stay home mom and homeschool teacher, I felt the time was right to return to work. My son is almost 16, pretty independent and not home much, so why not? I tried looking for work briefly last year before finding out I needed to move, with no luck, but after a week of submitting applications I am finally employed!! 

This is a big step, one that I’ve thought out a bit. I know that I will eventually need 2 jobs, Ke won’t be my dependent for much longer (3 more years :/ where’d time go?). So instead of jumping into my previous job title, further utilizing my certification, I decided it’s better to start with my soon to be 2nd job so I can work up the pay scale a bit. Fingers crossed this all goes well. I’ve worked at this job when I was much younger so I know I can do it, and the company is amazing toward their employees so I know I can move up and will enjoy it.

There’s a story behind art, even body art

Tattoos, piercings, dermals, and other forms of body modifications are each person’s form of artistic expression; their body the canvas, each chosen method of modification their medium. Art is beauty and meant to be appreciated, admired, discussed, but most of all it is a piece of a story.

Here’s a part a part of mine:

I was maybe 10 when my mom took my best friend and I to get my ears pieced. It was the typical Clair’s type store in a mall in the 80’s, you pick your piercing studs, sit on a stool, find and mark the location to pierce, then close your eyes as they place the piercing gun and pull the trigger, repeat next ear. Looking back now this has to be one of the most traumatic ways to pierce an ear.

In middle school I went back to get a second set of piercings in my lobes. Same process, but this time they missed the mark and the piercings were too close together for me to wear anything but a hoop in the first hole. I took the 2nd piercings out early hoping they would close, but that never happened. So disappointing, my design was incomplete and couldn’t be fixed. Stupid piercing guns.

I had so many visions that I could never act on for years after that. My mom refused to allow me any more ear piercings and any other placement as ugly. There was a point in high school where my vision was clear, I knew what I wanted next and exactly what to do. I grabbed my original stud (it was thicker), cleaned my ear, pressed it to the skin covering my cartilage, and pushed. It took some time, too many grooves in the stud, and oh God, it hurt that way. It seemed like it took a half hour, but it was through and framed perfectly. I can’t explain the rush I got or the satisfaction I felt, but every ounce of pain made it mine and perfect. There would be no more piercing guns or unqualified staff decorating my canvas.

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-Express yourself ~Madonna