Jersey...

So Mary Beth and I drive up yesterday.  I kept her awake and she kept me awake and by ten thirty us old ladies were snug as bugs in rungs in bed.

Today was the band reunion and god I love coming up here for that.  I wish I’d come the first year but yay!! Mr. Mac was able to come this year!!!! I hope he never does write that book of Claudette Stories because of almost anyone on this earth... he might have as many as my mom if not maybe more.

Then I got to go to the shore.  My excuse was I wanted to show Mary Beth the shire but let’s be honest... it’s not a full trip if I don’t stick my toes in the sand and let the water rush over them and give me a homesickgasm.

Like literally, every year I think about if I could come back to live.  Could I live at the jersey shore again?  And I com to the conclusion, every year, that no.  I love my classmates and my friends from here and yes I miss the ocean like a fat kid standing outside of a closed bakery but the list of people is miss in North Carolina grows every day.  I don’t even think about moving to England in my dotage.  

I’m a New Jersey girl living in a North Carolina world and I might Bitch and moan but I love it.  I love it all.  And now that I got my garden the little country girl in me is so satisfied she purring.  

We check out tomorrow and take mommy and friend to Atlantic City for the day and depending on what time we get back from that I may or may not let my mom talk/ nag me into staying the night in her room and driving back Monday or I might just hit the road because I’m pretty sure traffic will be lighter during the evening hours and the DC triangle might not be so hellish.  Omg we spent maybe 80% of the drive up sitting still or going so damn slowly we might as well have been sitting still.

So if any of my jersey friends read my blog, I love you I really do and I always will... insert Whitney Houston Gif here... I won’t be moving back here.  I’ll visit you often, probably every year from here on out, but won’t be moving back.

I miss North Carolina.

I don’t think I’ve ever said that before.

I can’t wait to get home.

CIA, Bellas!!!

Sexual frustration

May not be good for my psyche but I can tell you one thing it is good for.  A dirty Pizza Hut.

I have been cleaning non stop for like three days.  First my living room then last night after work my bathroom and bedroom and today I seem to have a personal vengeance against dirt and oil buildup in this hut.  

But it looks good.  I’m earning my vacation.  I can tell you that much.

I would post pictures but that’s against policy so....

Back to it I go!

Ciao Bellas!!

Am I allowed

To call white people ghetto?? 

I honestly don’t know.  I mean white people aren’t allowed to call black people N*ggers without permission from black people and really not even then so I need to know, as a black person, can I call a white person ghetto?

The Sports Clips next door to us has this stylist; and I use the term lightly because if she styles like she dresses and does her own hair, her clientele is doomed; named Brittney.  When she called to place her order she was snotty.  When she came in to pick up her order she was snotty.  Like there was not a point at all when she wasn’t acting like a bitch. And not a normal "can I speak to your manager" bitch but a bitch that I really really really wanted to throat punch Bitch.  She says "oh and I want a drink." She has it hidden so I didn’t know she’d already gotten the drink.  She’d ordered off the five dollar menu so I asked her if she wanted the four drinks for five dollars or did she want a two liter.  "Why the fuck would I want four drinks? What are you talking about?" And she holds up the small mt dew.  So I charger her for that and she’s pissed because it’s two bucks.  She throws singles at me like she’s a stripper and after I cash it out she says "Oh and I need a ranch"  so I inform her that they are seventy cents extra.  Oh she snapped that last bra buckle holding in for dear life at that!  How dare I charge her!  They never charge her!  She wants my district managers number! When I wouldn’t give her that she said I shouldn’t worry she’d call corporate.  

You all would be proud of me... I smiled and told her to have a nice day.  She responded with I hope yours is as nice as your attitude.  Considering I stood there with a smile on my face and in my voice that means my day is gonna be awesome!  Yay!  So nice of her to wish me such a good day!!

Sigh... another day another slice of pizza.

Mornings in Charlotte

Stink.

I’m serious.  Have you ever rolled down 485 with your windows open? It freaking stinks.

And that was my first actual thought AFTER caffeine.

You guys don’t know I had fifty shades of kinky fuckery dreams last night and woke up in a surprisingly good mood despite falling out of my bed when my alarm rang because I couldn’t disentangle myself from my sheets.

Then I made the mistake of eating a croissant from Starbucks and that forker is fighting back hard this morning.  Don’t think I’ll get around to eating then second one if the first one fights this hard.  I seriously should schedule another appointment with the doc and mayb this time I won’t be in crying pain so he’ll focus on that issue.  Last appointment he pressed on the already hurting tummy and it sent me into tears and fetal positions so he fixed that issue and I so don’t totally blame him.  

But back to the issue at hand.  The highway seriously stinks and maybe it’s because it’s hot and all that dirt and sugaw creek is heating up but damn.  

Hah, you thought I was gonna run with the kinky fuckery dreams didn’t you?  Yeah, no.  The things that I saw in my dreams last night will not make working today easy.  Like at all.

Although I must say they’re getting more vivid. Right before Nelly screamed "So hot in here!" This morning at seven twenty, I could have sworn on a stack of bibles that the were lips on my nipples and a hand between my legs.

Damn... I need to end this.  Where is my government issued XXXXXX because goddamn I’m about at my limit.  

Question to any readers... what’s your stance on hickeys?  I like them.  Only ever had one but I liked it.  It was a visual reminder of what I’d done the night before...

Mmmmm visions 

Dammit!

Well... today is gonna be fun...

Can’t wait for this weekend

Normally I don’t say anything about my trips because one I don’t want to get robbed and two I KNOW I’m not going to have enough time to see everyone and I don’t want to disappoint anyone but damn if I’m not looking forward to my trip to New Jersey this weekend.  I need this.  

I’m tired y’all.  Like nine and soul tired.  And the body is no longer willing to work with me.  

I think I have an intestinal blockage because when I eat something... anything, it takes maybe four or five days to get through whatever is blocking the works down there just to come out the other end.  In my life I have never gone this long without being able to poop.  I used to be an everyday maybe couple times a day pooper but now I’m lucky if I can poop every four or five days and lord a mercy does this hurt.  Like a bring me to my knees hurt.  I’m afraid to eat.  My clothes are falling off of me because I’m losing weight because I know if I eat it’s going to get backed up and it’s going to hurt so I don’t eat.

Can I just get a new body?  Maybe one with slightly bigger boobs and a slightly smaller ass?  Maybe one with real working parts that don’t grow tumors and cause me pain.  And it’s not an all day every day pain it’s a random you’ve eaten now face the consetwondays later pain.

Getting old sucks.  I honestly don’t see how people live into their nineties dealing with their bodies crapping out on them.  Fork this!  I’m not going through another fifty years of this...

And before anyone comments, not that anyone ever does comment on the page, I have mentioned it to the doctor.  He thinks it’s diverticulitis or locis which I guess would be the chronic version of it.  And he gives me pills.  And days of work.  At what point is he going to do something other than throw pills at me.  Pills which, by the way, get caught up in the blockage and don’t help push anything through.

Maybe I should start seeking another doctor...

Hmmmm....

So I’m already screwing shit up

So without warning or explaination, two of my shift leaders decided fork this and walked away.  One of them had the thought to tell me she wished I had become the gm earlier and she probably wouldn’t have left but here’s the thing.  I worked a whole day with her and she never once said she was leaving.  I’m pretty sure she even still has her key.  

Then I thought I had an opening manager here this morning but apparently I didn’t do guess who’s working a double?  Yeah me.

I’m going to need to have a staff meeting because one I need to meet everyone and find out when they are available to work because the last gm basically told them when they were to work and would brook no questions about it. Fork that.

I can’t say I’m coming in here trying to be people’s friends but at the same time I’m not coming in here trying to be the whip snapper either but I think I’m going to have to. 

I havent quote gotten back to the I wanna go home phase but I’m getting there...

So I fucked up...

I spent most of the day watching Fifty Shades of Kinky Fuckery... or Fifty shades of Grey to everyone else.

Yeah bad idea.  Just reminded me of ho horney I am. Like there should be a legal limit as to how sex deprived one person is allowed to be before the government steps in and says "okay, it’s been long enough.  Here’s XXXXXXX he’s going to reset your limit."  Also don’t try to sit there and decode the x’s yall... they’re literally JUST x’s.

So Anna got her fair share of sex in three books and three movies.  Hell she got her share, my share, your share, and all the shares floating out there.

I wonder does that life actually exist?  I’m not stupid yes I know BDSM exists but even at some point I’m sure the kingpin or BDSM was going "Daaaaaaaayum"

I’m a simple woman.  I am also a romantic but baring that I’d take a little gentleness from whoever XXXXXXXXX turned out to be.

I think we’d start with a heavy makeout session.  The kind where your both breathless at the end but so very very ready to just run to the next base?  By this point he should have the bra off and my girls should be standing at attention.  Now at this point he can lay me down or stand me up but if he’s standing me up, he’s coming from behind.  Kissing the neck while hand one works lady A (no... I don’t have name for the girls) and the other hand needs to be working its way into my drawers.  And this does not stop until I’m grinding on his hand so hard.... mmmm

Now if he’s laid me down he’s obviously not coming from behind. He’s going straight for lips on nipples. Tug them bite them suck them like you are getting angel milk from them. Flip you tongue back and forth. When he’s spent copious most of time there then he can with work his way down mouth wise or work the hands.  Tbh I prefer he uses both.

I’m not an easy person to make cum but when you achieve it, you know it.  Finger me,  get those digits up there, find the g spot.  I assure you I do have one and it’s been tapped once before.  Now here’s the important part while your fingers are working, his tongue should be introducing itself to my clit.  Suck her lick her DO NOT THUMB HER.  Seriously no woman in the history of women wants your thumb there guys.  Yes we know the thumb is convienient but no.  He’s clumsy.

At this point my government issued XXXXXXXX should have seriously cramped or broken finger because if he’s followed the guide I have cum and I should have cum hard.

And it’s not over yet boys.  I give decent bj’s. If I get to a point and you can’t take anymore, Pull my hair flip me over in all four nd go for it.  If you have the dexterity to reach around and play with clitty again please do.  You can also spark me.  Make it rough.  Make every yes that escapes my lips sound like you stole it from that gap where my uterus and cervix used to be.

If Anna had gotten a little of what I just described as my perfect night of sex I think she would have been just as happy.  

So tell me, what’s your perfect night like?

Who am I anymore?

When I started in pizza I was ecstatic because I was working with friends. It had its ups and downs but damn it was fun. When I got to this leg of my cheesy journey I was still with friends but one by one my friends get treated like dirt and they leave. And there’s nothing wrong with that. No one should be treated the way this company treats their employees. But I’m still here. I’ve had blow ups and meltdowns, I’ve had breakdowns and meltdowns. But I’m still here and I can’t figure out what is wrong with me that I take this abuse day after day after day. In the past few months I went from a reasonably healthy slightly stressed out individual to a burnout stressed beyond relief shell of my former self who now, thanks to this very same company now has a heart problem. I honestly don’t even remember what I was like before this. My past is forgotten and my future looks so bleak. But still I stay. When am I going to learn that sometimes you have to sacrifice that dollar bill for a better inner you. I’m tired, I’m lonely, I’m so stressed I don’t think I can internalize anymore stress. My chest hurts every night now. I don’t eat. When I do eat I don’t have time to eat right. I’ve lost so much weight that I don’t even buy the belts for plus size anymore.  I want to be with someone but who is going to want a woman that is liable to have a heart attack and keel over because she won’t leave a job that is knowingly hellbent on killing her??

A new page in the Hut of Drama

So today, Mother’s Day.  Happy one to anyone mother reading.  My very first communication was "Happy Mother’s Day can you come in early so I can leave?"

Two hours with my kids.  That’s all I got.

Get here and by three fifteen I was by myself and slaying it out.  At ten to five one of my drivers says he’s going to be fifteen late but I couldn’t respond because I was literally by myself in here.  The cook, who lives with aforementioned driver, comes in and says that driver said he doesn’t feel well and he’s not coming in.  If I/ we have a problem with it, we can call him about it.  I passed the message onto my boss.

Idk what happened between them but driver then comes up in here pissed off and seeing red wanting to know where the manager that asked me to come in early is.  I told him she left between two thirty and three.  He said alright, pushed past me and walked out.

Y’all I don’t know what about to go down in my hut but if this is the last time I post know it was probably because I knifed him for coming at me.  I’m not planning it but no one is going to come at me intent on harm.

But at the same time I am actually scared that he might come back up here.  I have minors in here.  Hell I have my DAUGHTER in here.  I will protect them.

On another note. I purchased 1000mg cbd oil the other day.  It says it can help with a whole bunch of things including depression.  We’ll see if it works.  Maybe this can help

Pull me out of this hole I’m in.

God I hope he doesn’t come back up here tonight.  I don’t wanna go to jail.  Orange is soooo not my color.  And handcuffs hurt like hell.

I really need to quit this job...

Soul catching

So today was surprisingly not a seriously awful no good very bad day.  I mean it wasn’t jump up and rejoin life on Facebook because I’m suddenly happy good but it was a "maybe I’ll think twice about walking out into rush hour traffic" good.

That’s something.... right??

Maybe it was because I got to spend a good hour or so on the road taking deliveries.  I got to breathe fresh air, I got to listen to my music and drive fast.

Maybe that’s what I need?  Maybe it’s being cooped up in the store all day long that’s killing my soul?  And maybe it’s coworkers who think entirely too highly of themselves.

We have this one guy.  He swears he’s trying to be a shift leader.  That would be good if he weren’t one of those stand on your soapbox and scream until you think people are finally paying attention to you kind of people.  He actually got high and or drunk one night and called me at two am to rant about shit.

Because calling your boss at two am is totally acceptable.  Totally.

Not.  Not in any existence is that remotely okay to do.  

And every other shift or lately every single shift he either doesn’t feel well or is still hurt from an accident a few weeks ago or some other excuse and has to leave.  Making our delivery times through the roof and usually putting more work into the other drivers and the managers because we now have to deal with the angry customers who want to scream at us because delivery is so long.

PSA: don’t scream at the people who handle your food.  I’m not saying we will do something to it but do you really want to live with the thought in the back of your mind that maybe they might have done something to it because you were a total bitch on the phone?  I mean... unless it’s a totally open kitchen you don’t see everything...

*shrugs and walks away* Your choice.

I still think this store is slowly and piece by piece stealing my soul and selling to the highest bidder but I’ve got news for them... I signed a contract with the devil years ago.  He owns the soul.  I think I sold it for my divorce... or a chocolate bar.  I didn’t really read the fine print.

I’m still considering other jobs.   I’m always considering other jobs.  Most specifically jobs that allow me a half a chance of moviing to England one day.

I wish I knew why the two times I was in England  my spirit felt like it had finally come home and the two times I flew away from England my spirit curled up in a corner and cried.

I’d ask if any of you ever felt that way but no one