I am unsure if my eyes opened first or my brain was already running through details of the upcoming Holiday Gala I am hosting, but the clock said 3:30 a.m. I am awake and need to vent.
Chest pressure. Racing thoughts. I run through my mental checklist doting my "i's" and crossing my "t's", leaving no leaf un-turned in Gala planning. Have I missed a leaf? A small tiny detail that could make a ripple effect.
I have 1-1/2 weeks until the grand crescendo of my party. Time is still on my side to fine-tune,thank you, God!
At the mission, my freezers and pantries are bursting in donations. Over capacity. Sounds dreamy being donation-based, I know! The behind-the-scenes-not-so-dreamy details is the attitudes of those working under me are overwhelmed and frazzled in this overflow. This is a result of being a tad out of their comfort zone. Oh well.
They are sick of stockpiles of donations coming in. They haven't seen anything yet, wait till it is a week before Thanksgiving.
Every day, all day, emails and phone calls blow my office into a tizzy of requests to serve Thanksgiving Day. My graciousness is slipping and I really want to say, "What about the other 364 days of the year we feed the homeless?" I know that sounds awful.
I work six days a week and pretty much every flipping holiday and for some reason for two months I am flooded daily by people who want to help one day out of the year. Thanksgiving Day.
Oh, the entitlement and theft in this population that works for me at the mission. I know it will never end.
The attitudes, the bickering. Do they realize a 4-hour workday is nothing? Imagine putting in a 4-hour day and walking out the door with zero work responsibility until your next shift. No holidays and weekends off. My patience is nothing with them.
I pressed charges against a kid at the high school this week for taking pictures of Brooke, photo shopping them onto sexual pictures and texting them to other students. Bad move.
I am one pissed off mom. At the battle line ready for war.
Finneaus has fleas.
Brooke's new med's are working well, but I found out will cost over $300 per month and my insurance doesn't cover it.
What else?
The fighting and bad attitudes at the mission. Staff, residents and dinner guests. Every day, all day. I am certain I am not the gentle spirit they believe I should be. Perhaps, everyone needs to tap into personal ownership of life responsibilities.
I work my ass off and give 100% in every area of my life. Unfortunately, this is not a good combination to be surrounded daily by those who do little to zero for their own lives and ultimately effects my life in their constant taking mentalities.
I am tired, stressed and ready for battle.
My plate is full, my resolve slipping and I am in direct communication with God.
This is a bad week, temper tantrum rant in the midst of a very good life.
A winning lottery ticket and a long vacation would help.
