27 & 28: Keeping My Eyes On the Prize

I’ve only worked at the winery about a month, so I really don’t have a right to complain, but I hate working closing.  Last Wednesday night, I worked five to close, and I didn’t wind up leaving until around 10:45, and we closed at like, 8 pm.  For one thing, I work more than probably anyone else who isn’t a manager (I’m not complaining because I’m making good money).  Not only that, but I also have worked every single weekend since I started, and usually, it is every day/night of the weekend.  I just wish the work shifts were better distributed because I feel like I’m working my ass off when other people are barely working any shifts at all especially on the weekends.  SHARE THE WORKLOAD, PEOPLE.  I LIKE THE WEEKENDS TOO.  I’d LOVE to have a social life, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?

The thing I have to keep reminding myself of is that all of this is for New York.  I’m doing this for New York.  She is a demanding lady of a city, but she’s worth it.  She’s worth the hard work.  I just have to remember to also apply this to myself when in dating situations (Ha.  Whenever THAT happens.): I am worth the hard work, boys.  But back to the point: I am withering away here, and the only way to cultivate myself again is to get my ass to Manhattan where I can plant my roots (where all this gardening lingo is coming from, I don’t know).

I was also asked by one of my tables to sing.  It was a group of middle-aged women who all had an interest in theatre.  I think one of them might have even been a community theatre director in Jefferson City.  Anyway, I wound up singing just a bit of Chicago for them to uproarious applause from the table.  I realized that might be the first of many requests to sing by people I’m waiting on in restaurants.  Like, I might land a job from doing that in New York.  Weird.

Thursday evening, I went to Nicole’s house to watch our favorite summer TV obsession: So You Think You Can Dance.  After a pizza and several glasses of wine, we were more than relaxed.  This also meant we were prone to ridiculous Twitter updates and the imminent viewing of our golden oldies dance recital videos, this time from 1997 and 2000 (I don’t remember any really old recital routines except by costume, so…).

What I love about spending time with Nicole is how grounded and relaxed she keeps me.  I’ve known her since we were five years old.  We’ve danced together basically our entire lives and seen each other naked backstage more times than we can count (not in a creepy way…in a we’ve-got-to-change-costumes-in-under-45-seconds way).  Nicole knows me better than most people ever will, and she’ll always keep me honest.  Hanging out with her requires no actual effort like it does with some people.  Like, we don’t have to look perfect around each other; there’s no weird, underlying competition with each other.  What you see is what you get.  It’s easy and uncomplicated.  I appreciate that.

And oh my god, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.

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