All this over saggy lettuce

I just went to let Gus potty and desperately needed lunch, but did not want to spend $6 on a burger that I would immediately regret eating. I remembered Pollo and actually bought a salad, which is what I usually get there. For the second time in at least 2 years, I got some saggy lettuce.

Not all, mind you, or even most. Not even a handful. I picked it out and happily ate my salad, but it reminded me of one of the early Pollo days here. My coworkers and I often get Pollo because it is delicious and appears to be real food and somewhat healthy... er. We get Pollo often enough to have favorites, earn points, and be able to order for each other. In all that time, I've only seen one other saggy lettuce experience.

What killed me was the response. Now, I have not always reacted well to fast food disappointments. My personal worst was discovering they heard rice instead of fries after leaving the drive through. I threw the rice, then had an alarmed conversation with myself. I know I have shared that before, but it still entertains and appalls me.

When we got some saggy lettuce in our salads two years ago, we complained a little, which was fine. It was on our next trip when two people specifically requested fresh lettuce that I had a meerkat response. Are you kidding? Are... you kidding?!

Come on now. Are they going to stop mid-handful and say oh no, they want the GOOD lettuce? Go get the GOOD lettuce, Mike.

And I mean, ok- if the entire salad was see-through, you'd have an argument, but that would constitute a lettuce emergency and it likely would never make it to the counter. My boss once requested so many special requests on one cup of coffee that she referred to herself as an entitled old biddy. I found that hilarious and now keep EOB as a handy acronym in these circumstances. Can you imagine working in a fast food restaurant and someone asks for the FRESH lettuce? I can just feel their nostrils slightly flaring.

It's a passive aggressive thing, really- you know they don't have a separate lettuce bucket. You just want them to know they fucked up last time and you'll have your critical eye on things. There are people that I don't like to go to restaurants with because they do this shit. I would like to tell them this, but I'm not sure how. Maybe I can give them the same conversational yet slightly shitty attitude they give the wait staff. One friend got shitty with a fast food employee recently, and I called it out in front of the employee and my friend was shamed into an apology.

I think was surprises me is that people seem to expect perfection anywhere they go. Fast food is a great illustration of that, because it's cheap food quickly- there's a tradeoff! Do you expect to sacrifice nothing? Even at a nicer or nice restaurant, do you expect perfection? Your life must be really awful. I try to think about this when I'm on hold to talk to someone whose job it is to obstruct my mission. Sometimes it feels like that's their job, anyway. It doesn't always work, but customer service jobs suck because we are ALL assholes at one point or another.

My coworker teaches Dr. Martin Luther King's four steps to nonviolent protest. One is self-purification, which involves cleansing yourself of emotions so you can proceed with honest and peaceful intentions. Or at least, that's my current understanding of it. If you are fired up, it's not the right time to address the situation. I didn't like the rage I felt over the rice. I don't like the way I get shitty with people sometimes and I don't like being in the company of people who do it.

The trouble is figuring out how to address it in others and being receptive to signs that indicate you are being a jerk. If I were capable of light humor in the moment, I'd love that. But one thing I've been seeing lately is that when I have the urge to pull away from someone, the answer is usually to pull them closer instead. Maybe seeing my discomfort or witnessing theirs will change our behavior.

Good day off

I had a pretty nice day yesterday. I actually bought tires the night before, which caused my expression in that picture, but I'm super proud that I did it on my own. Things were pretty tight for a while, but I've been working down the debt wrangling my finances and I am finally self-sufficient. This week it was tires. Last week it was brakes and fixing the rotors and some other car stuff. Plus Christmas. I'd better win the money from the credit union for using my credit card this month. But yeah, researched and purchased brand new tires and it was a good kind of painful. This is the weirdest feeling to be grateful for.

I slept in on my day off- slept in a lot. I took Gus for a long walk and we came across a woman walking her dog, so we let them say hi and she asked if I had a sweater for him. That's been a challenge, since his body is long and tiny, but his chest is huge. She said she had some that were too small for her dog and went home to get them. She handed me a whole pile, and Gus and I- well, I had fun dressing him up. He does need a coat; it's been so cold outside. I think we may have one and it looks warm.

I had to run to meet A&N for lunch, but first I had to create an obstacle course too difficult for Gus to get to the catbox. I was proud of this innovative solution until I realized that nobody wants cat litter scattered across the table. Back to the drawing board, but I am excited about incorporating the corral. He fights too much to stay in it, so I'm either going to use it for the catbox or the trash. It might not keep him in, but it might keep him out! This little turkey is a tank.

So we went to see Star Wars, which might get me in trouble. My "man friend," as Jeffrey likes to call him, is a big Star Wars fan, and was horrified that I am only meh about this cultural phenomenon. I infamously slept through Rogue 1 (One?), so I didn't think it would be a big deal to go without him. I could easily go again and care about as much. And seriously, this guy doesn't have time to go to the movies! But... I actually liked the movie. ... ... .........

So now I feel bad, but maybe it's a good thing, because when he gets back, if it's still in theaters, or even at the second run place, I will make plans to get him there, whereas before I would have just meh'd past it. That was one sentence, guys.

So I got home and made myself some dinner and started working on a gift. I will show you once it's done. I haven't done this in a long time, and it was fun to just sit and crank it out. I think that's how I need to do projects. This is why I rarely send letters, Camille. I keep trying to come back to them like you do, because I really like that they span weeks and give a nice picture of what's going on. Instead, I have 75 started letters, because I can never find the last one. Just sit down and do it- that should be my non-athletic slogan.

Shoulding all over myself

How can I withstand my disappointment?

I got an email from one of my saved searches about this job- got the email on Friday. I did not spend any time this weekend on preparing, of course, but I meant to. Oh, did I mean to. But I had so much on my list and it all seemed so important and I did have a wonderful weekend. Now when I tell you about it, you'll have one eyebrow cocked, but I seriously have to wonder about fate sometimes. There's this job that might materialize at work in my department, but it's still not editing, great as it would be. This was a straight shot- a job with editor in the title. Not that I qualified, but I was going to throw my hat in anyway, because it's not up to me to decide if I'm qualified.

It was the time difference that got me. I was finally ready to apply. I had just uploaded my new resume, and the job was gone- it was midnight on the east coast. Such a dumb mistake that I know and warn others about. It took me until 8 to find my password. I couldn't log in at work because it was here, but when I got home, I couldn't find it. I got so stressed, I just decided to start cleaning, knowing I'd come across it. As soon as I did, I went to finish updating my resume. Ok, I did do some of this ahead of time. I was ready in just over an hour, and just barely missed.

But why couldn't I find my password? The reset would go to work, and I knew it was here. It took laundry and easing off the search for me to spy the place where I suddenly remembered putting it. Did I not want to apply? Am I afraid to leave the VA? Do I really want a commute that far? Was this just procrastination?

I actually teach people about USA Jobs, and I tell them it's usually the second or third job that you get- I've seen it happen so often. You flail on the first one- there are all the documents to find and sign and scan and upload. You have to update your resume and write a cover letter and reset your password and learn how to use the website again. It's disappointing to miss, and I tried for the writer editor job a couple months ago. I got an interview, and they picked someone else... I have legitimate reasons to be bitter, but they just make me sound bitter. In truth, I'm kind of glad, because they don't know what kind of program they have, and they're only using it as some kind of weird transcription service, so have at it. I'm going to find an editing job. Clearly not this one either, but some kind of editing job.

Yeah, yeah, I'm ready for the next one. And it will get easier and it will take less time. The last one took me WEEKS. This time, I was ready to go in about 3 days. That's some serious improvement, and I'll take it. I'll also take the earlier bedtime and the sleep I missed last night. I'll take the dinner with friends here tomorrow night and the obligation to clean up quickly. I'll take the embarrassing reminder about preparation and procrastination as lightly as I can and try not to flog myself with them too much. I'll take a nice, relaxing Christmas and the email I got today updating me on the new potential job in my department. It had two ifs, and in response, this person who has no stake in the game whatsoever- who just asked the boss on my behalf- told me to hang in there.

I think they all see that I am restless. I'm getting questions and long looks. They are eyeballing me as I am eyeballing the door. I keep thinking about the Little Prince, and how there are no destination screens on the comets. Just put out your fucking net, already!

Alright. So whether it was not meant to be or just a snafu, it's done with now, and my resume is a lot more honed to editing. If that's the outcome, who cares what the purpose was.

Bah.