Another Blog About “What The Phuc Do I Do Now…”

“… Now every dream gets whittled down, just  like every fool gets wise…”

~ Middleman by Bright Eyes

… I swear, I must be the wisest fool out there! … And how many times have I said that…

I’m done know. I have no more dreams to whittle down, and this fool is as wise as a fool  can be.

I’m nearly 50 years old, and there are dreams that I know will never happen. I will never  be an Olympian, or an astronaut, have a wedding or go on a honeymoon. I will never have a family of my own, and sadly, I will never own my own home. I will rent or be homeless until Zuker-nutz deposits his entire fortune into a high interest, liquid money market, off shore account with my name on it. The list goes on … and on … and on … Don’t bother  blowing all those dubious Facebook mantras of how it’s “not to late to live your dream” up my arse. There’s no more room!

…*sigh*…

I’m too choked up to even write about this… I’ve been sitting here in front of the computer for hours now. … I’m out of breath, it’s so hard to breath thinking of it … It running through my head right now, over and over again all the times I’ve come so close, so damn close but had to give it up…

… I just tried to write the list, but it just kept going on and on and it just sounds like some old coot dithering  about all the couldda woulddas …

We all make sacrifices, we all make the decision to do one thing or another. My story isn’t any different than yours, or yours, or yours… BUT I SO WANT IT TO BE! Then I will have every reason, to feel as horrible as I do for giving my very last …  Shoot I can’t even say it…

…*sigh*… OK…

I gave up my life, albeit a crappy life in the US to come to Ireland at the time with my then boyfriend, then suddenly husband, now known as “dickweed”, to open a martial arts school. When things got tough he bolted in a very slow grand fashion. But I stuck with it. I kept the school going though all of dickweed’s sabotage,  through the politics and more sabotage of other schools, through hunger, sickness, and financial short comings. I gave up social … “stuff”… I gave up comfort. I gave up heat during the Winters. I’ll be damned if I was going to pay a penny more to turn on the heat when I can throw on another shirt and shiver in a dark corner in silence. Yes! Yes! A DARK corner, because I’ll be damned if I wasted a penny on a light when the glow of street light coming through the window would due! … I went through Hell, several times over … And I did it willingly … Because up until now, the humble re wards were so so soooooo worth it…

… For the last year and a half the school has suffered a massive string of bad luck & bad timing. The list is long for such a short time…

… I don’t think I can recover the school and get it back up on it’s tender and fragile feet… I’m burnt out. I’m broken. My aches and pains remind me continuously that I’m growing old. I don’t have the wear with all anymore. … 12 years gone with nothing to show for it. … This school was my Hail Mary to make something out of my life even though people only saw me as a thick martial arts instructor. … I was hoping that my life would have carried more substance …

If I close this school down, which seem inevitable. There will be nothing left. …

… So what’s the point?… I have no money, no family … Friends these days forget quickly and easily … No reason … No reason whatsoever …

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It Was Just A Shitty Job

5 Weeks now.

Still can’t sleep through a Sunday night.

Doing better with the other nights…

Well, Wednesday is still a bit rough. …

5 Weeks, and I’m still angry.

Goodness, it was just a shitty job that I did for 3 years.

You would think that I just got out of a co-dependant abusive relationship.

But I didn’t.

It was just a shitty job that I did for 3 years.

Sure I can make all the correlations between a shitty job and a abusive relationship.

Because that’s what it is, isn’t it?

But do the same break up rituals work on a shitty job you did for 3yrs?

Maybe a re-bound job? … But that means you’d work at an even shittier job…

That might just do me in, ‘coz the last one nearly did.

There are no photos to burn, no rumours to spread, no lawsuits, no vehicles for my own vindication … Life goes on..

It was just a shitty job I did for 3 years.

5 weeks gone, and I am still angry…

I know, I said that already.

Why am I still angry?

Why am I angry at all?

It was just a shitty job I did for 3 years.

I thought I would be better by now.

That I would be bursting with energy, that I would drop the stress weight I gain, that all the erratic aches & pains that would randomly crush me would disappear, that my satirical intellectual prowessness would suddenly return.

Nope.

A student teased me when I complained; “Did you get your ‘medical bingo card’?

After realizing what it was, my only response was; “Do we get paid if we win?”

To be fair, I do have a bit more energy, but only enough to realize how broken I am.

I know these things take time, but it’s been 5 Weeks!

I know why I am angry.

That song. “California Numb” by Cloves

“… If you can only see me know, you can hear the punchline,

That I don’t like my face, or how I’m turning out…”

That’s why I’m so angry.

It’s been 5 Weeks, I’m not much better.

… And it was just a shitty job that I did for 3 years.

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I’m Quitting My Job On Monday

Yes, I am. I am quitting my job on Monday.

I’m writing this as a statement to the World that I am going to quite my job on Monday… (Actually, I’m giving notice on Monday … As of Friday 6th September 2019 I QUIT! )

I have to do this, because between now and Monday, I will talk myself out of it, and try to find yet another way to cope with this goodness forsaken phuc’d up job.

I have no safety nets – NONE!

No savings.

No family … none that will give me any kind of support until I’m back on my feet, anyway…

No friends that can afford to support me, we are all suffering … Plus, in 2013 I was in dire straits. Literally portioning out a small €0.99 bag of baby potatoes for the week and waiting to see if Meals on Wheels had any leftovers for me so that I can portion that out. I had made a huge leap and took my martial arts school and left the corrupted life sucking Instructors that my school & I were being terrorized by and went out on my own. Again I had NOTHING! Then my AWESOME Friends Ben & Angel, got all my other Friends together to pitch in and send me money to help out! My GOODNESS! How that saved me! But like what Spiderman said “… Everyone, gets 1…” That was my 1. … And I have yet to honour their kindness or even returned their favour…

I am on my own…

I hate my job… I hate my job… I hate my job…

I was only suppose to be working 20hrs a week. Set hours too. It was suppose to be a part time job that helped with making ends meet while I build my school. But to help out while a girl was on maternity leave. I worked full time. When she came back, not only was I bullied relentlessly by her, she jammed up the roster where I ended up working 18hr shifts, & double shifts every unholy and holy Sunday for the better part of 2 flipping shyte years! I kept track of everything, all her calls all her texts all her notes. Every time I just had enough I would bring it all to the manager and she would get a slap on the wrist. … I would foolishly think to myself; ‘Things will get better now’ … Well of course, you know, it didn’t.

Working that many hours with no breaks, the customers turn into Grade ‘A’ Greedy Slimy Jerks! I start to imagine 50, 100, 1000 different ways you can get away with murder. I start chanting to myself ; ‘I work the awful job so I can travel! I work this awful job so I can travel! I work this awful job…”

Then there’s the ever so invasive social media that we are all now required to be on both Facebook and What’s App so the Assistant Manager can constantly send out group phuc’n messages to remind us what an AWFUL PHUC’N JOB WE ALL WORK AT, at 3  FECKIN’ A.M. in the SHITTY MORNING! … And that’s on  your day off… assholes…

Every time I take the bus to work, I desperately wish that instead of getting in the bus through the door, that I would get in the bus through the front grill …  I hate my job… I have to go to a coffee shop that’s 5 min away from my crappy poo fart job an hour before my shift starts, to phyc  myself up for work. I get queezy, nauseous as I drag my sorry ass on that 5 min walk to the front door. I feel like I just got sucker punched in the gut by Godzilla when I step inside. … I can’t breathe … Within the 1st hour the anger in me starts to boil, and the only way I can control it is to book weekends away and holidays… I have to cancel them later when I get home. … I feel that I have some freedom, some escape when I do that … I’m keeping my booking to Iceland though… By the end of my shift, I’m shaking with rage and in the past week, I’ve taken to throwing up after I close up at 2am. … Not joking … Face down in the toilet throwing up… Thank Goodness I cleaned it before … sucks that I have to clean it again… It takes me a whole day after a shift to wind down from it. I’m already consumed by the anxiety a whole day before a shift….

I gained 40lbs since I started this … this … job. I now have lipedemia, and exhibiting signs of multiple sclerosis that runs rampant in my family. My joints ache constantly. I’m always tired. I’m always angry. … I hate my job… Earlier this year, because of the stress and anxiety of this Rat Ball Slime job and sitting for 18hrs on a stool, my soas muscles seized and twisted, pulling my left leg 2in up into my hip. It cost me a fortune to go to an osteopath to work it out so that I can stand on both feet at the same time. (If you are in the Cork City, Douglas area I’d recommend Trevor if you need one. He’s FANTASTIC!) Currently my ulcers are flaring, even as I write, I have waves of searing pain ripping through my gut every time I think about this Demon Spawned job.

Recently I have had to get all my VAT & TAX for the school in order and up to date. Long story for another time & post. It was a real eye opener. My worse year financially was in 2013 when I only had 6 active students. I currently have over 20 active students, and I am bringing in ONLY 1/3 of what I brought in when I only had 6 active student in 2013! I’ve been so consumed by this Wart Stank job that I’ve not only neglected my health but I’ve neglected my school.

My conditioning is so bad, I can barely teach my classes. I know that I would not be able to do the work out that I make my beginners do. That’s really embarrassing being that I’m 6th degree black belt. Can you imagine what I can do with more than 20 active students if I wasn’t always tired, angry and in pain? If I can teach my classes with enthusiasm instead of just getting through so I can get to work. If I could not just tell them how it’s done but show them as well! My Goodness IT WOULD BE SOOOO MUCH FUN! Maybe instead of just 20 active students, there would be over 50? … If I had over 50 active students, I wouldn’t need a second job…

In the last several months there’s been a very unsavory element in the customers. Illegal activity happening in and around my place of work. I told management. They talked to the customer and fibbed. They fibbed about how the they were being watched. And now the customers are calling their bluff. I let management know. Management didn’t care. We are working alone until 2am. The crowd is getting rougher and rougher. We have no back up or recourse other than calling the guard (police) if anything should happen. The whole problem could be resolved if management would just have security do a walk through  or  2 between 11pm and 1am to make their presence known. But they couldn’t be bothered. So, I have to play security guard for less than half the hourly pay of an actual security guard. … I hate my job…

And there’s Ricky. The live in boyfriend. My love, though we haven’t had anytime to really explore it. We met. 6 months later we dated. 6 months later he moved in. 8 months later I started this WHANKTARD SNATCH PUSS job… So once again you can imagine, always tired, always angry, always physically in pain with one thing or another. Between teaching classes, and work, and his work, and whatever else it is that he does, we might get a full day to spend together … well, I’m sure we have… Over the last few years he’s shaved his gotee, grew it back, and shaved it again. Changed the style of clothes, gained weight, loss weight, I’m sure his views on life have evolved or changed, but I wouldn’t know … Always tired, angry & in pain, I barely notice when he decides to do a bit of creative man-scaping. … Maybe that’s the way it’s always been? … Gotta give the man credit for putting up with  me and sticking around all this time, still doing the dishes even! I have to wonder where we would be now if it weren’t SKANK PHUC JIZ ROT job. … Better? Worse? I know that I’m looking forward to finding out …

So, I’m quitting my job Monday, … I’m giving notice  …  In a month and a few days I will have to face a whole new set of anxieties, but I WILL BE FREE …

Wish me luck Folks! And don’t let me chicken out!

You Keep Telling Yourself …

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