Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Whiskey River

As soon as I got home, as soon as I opened the door I fell to my knees.  And cried and cried.  I held my dog who licked my eyeballs and cried some more. 

Maybe this is why I've started drinking again.

It's a funny thing about alcohol.  The thing is, whenever anyone in my family gets anywhere near it, they are immediately, instanously, an alcoholic.  I've seen it happen too many times and therefore I was terrified of alcohol until I got drunk for the first time on my 27th birthday.  I could've sworn I was walking straight for the door, but apparently Shawn had to guide me all the way down the street to the car.  I could swear we parked closer!

I'm proud to say I've never operated heavy machinery while drunk (I can barely operate the DVD player while drunk) and I've never once had a hangover.  I've never once lost entire hours either.  I remember everything right up till I fall asleep in a drunken stupor.

It began when Shawn and I were setting up the equipment for Hot Torch Designs, his knew business.  I'd get up at 4:30 AM for my job, go to work, run the errands, do the chores at home.  We'd go to the shop and work till around 10 PM and do it all over again the next day.  I could not sleep and I needed to wind down quickly so I could get in a quick 6 hours sleep so I began with a shot or two of whiskey or rum.

Then I gained ten pounds without even trying.  "It's because of a big dose of calories and sugar right before bed," said my friend Richard, who is a professional drinker with LOTS of experience.

So I switched to Benadryl.  It's low in fat and has no calories!  Beginning sometime in December, around the time that all this fuss with Don began, I began to slip in a little whiskey after I'd already taken Benadryl.  Don't know if this is considered safe and quite frankly I don't care anymore. 

Another funny thing about alcohol is that women get drunker faster than men because of higher fat content and lower muscle content.  I'm five feet tall and I have plenty of fat to quickly absorb the whiskey so it really doesn't take much.  Last night I timed it.  I poured a shot, not quite to the top and downed it.  Made a sour face (because it's like $6 a gallon) and I was plenty toasted within four minuets.

Ah, sweet river of whiskey.  Within no time, my problems had fallen by the wayside.  My worries cast aside, I watched a DVD of "My Name is Earl" and chuckled slightly until I fell into a silent doze.  Not that I intend to become an alcoholic (who does?) but I can certainly understand why one would turn to drugs or alcohol to make everything go away.  My problem is that I care about my dogs getting fed, having food around, even if it's only Ramen noodles and electricity.  I really like electricity.

So I drink before bed to force me to become as dumb as a doorknob and relax.  Naturally, it's always in the back of my head of what has happened with other close family members and their drug and alcohol usage, of of course there's always that lingering worry that I may not be able to save myself in case of fire, flood or tornado.  But the whiskey washes most of those worries away.  They're barely there.  And then I become very sleepy.  And hopefully I can sleep in a very deep stupor until midnight, at which point I'll get up and pee as if I were peeing for the first time ever, then literally fall into the bed and sleep like a dead thing till that awful hatred sound of the alram clock goes off again in four and a half hours.

So today wasn't good and I'm very much looking forward to bedtime and my whiskey river.  Hey, at least I've got something to look forward to.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014


Back when Don was ordering 1,000 bottles at a time, Shawn suggested that perhaps I could quit my job and just make juice.  That was OK with me.  A couple of times, Mom came over and helped me out on a Saturday.  She put on nipples, caps, and labels and that's a huge help when you're facing large orders and doing everything by hand.

A couple of weeks ago, Allan mentioned to me that a vapor store opened on Ave. M.  I've been a bit a powder keg lately from lack of sleep, food and money.  I wished he hadn't told me because I thought no, it couldn't possibly be at our location where we'd signed a lease and lost $2,000.

Of course it was.  Shawn stopped by the store & chatted with the guys there.  On Sunday I made up sample kits with the plans to drive all over this county as time permitted and push this electronic cigarette juice as hard as possible.  I have to get out of my job.  I've been doing it too long and I'm so tired of freezing every winter and spring.

So I changed my clothes, slapped on some make-up and stopped by the new vapor store at our location.  It went well, although I'm not sure if these guys will order anything based onthe fact they make their own juice.  I explained the following behind Flavorful brand until our fall out with a censored store owner.  I told them I would not talk bad about this person, nor was I seeking revenge.  However, if they decided to carry my juice line, I would send over everyone I knew to help them out.  After all, what helps you out, helps me out.

This of course, was mostly lies.  Yes, I am still very bitter about what happened between us and Don.  I see what I am doing with two views.  One is all business.  This is a legitimate business with a huge local fan following; good for all involved.  Two, I see myself as acting on Karma's behalf and hope to bring Flavorful back to Bell County to both allow me to quit my job and crush Don.  It would be an added bonus, that's all.  Someone that evil doesn't deserve to do so well.  And naturally, what goes around comes around.

I will not speak badly about him outside of my own home.  I am merely doing business.  Selling a premium product made with my own hands, my heart and soul poured into it.

Later, as I became scatter brained and a form of ADD kicked in because I had three skillion things to do and was running out of day, as usual, I began to cry.

Normally, as of lately, I cry every single day now.  However this was one of a broken heart.  It broke my heart to go into that building that was mine.  Mine!  And see what a beautiful job they had done with it.  Everything came rushing into my head like a bad storm rolling in.  I never wanted to open a store to begin with.  I certainly didn't want to be outside of my city!  After I'd gotten home, I looked around that store in my head and thought, this should be me!  This was supposed to my ten minuet drive!

Gas is now $3.50 per gallon and our dreve is 30 miles littered with interstate construction and huge concrete walls 2 inches from each lane.  Shawn was offered another large job and I don't know how all this going to work out.  I don't understand why we are put into these situations, why we are left to flounder and flop.  In the shower, I cried out to God.  Why are you having us go through all this?  Why won't you help me?  I'm so tired!  I am SO TIRED!  Where are you?  Why can't I have something, ONE THING the way I want it?

And so on and so forth.  Most days I cry for 10 or 15 minuets and shut it off before Shawn gets home.  I've been crying on and off for about 2 hours now.  I hid it well.  I've trained myself pretty well at least with him.  All I ever wanted was a simple life, a clean home.  Neat and clean is organized and simple.  I hate people; I don't really want to instruct people for a living six days a week while making juice at night and on Sunday.  I told Shawn a few days ago I want to make juice, that's all I want to do.  He said he'd help me in any way he could.

Of course I don't want to spend every waking minuet making juice, but it's alone.  And if I was selling enough my mom would help me, she said she would.  I don't know how much time I have left with my mom and I think that situation would work out real good.  After a day of filling bottles, we could go have lunch.  I'd like that.

I'm so tired of Ramen noodles.  I haven't been this bloated since I was 17 and Shawn and I moved in together.  So now I'm tired and bloated.  And broke, of course.  Don't forget the unforgivable debts!  God, please make these stores want to order up all this juice.  I need something to go my way.  I need something to change.

Damn, I really want to a cheeseburger, too.

Monday, April 14, 2014

You Have GOT to be Kidding Me!

Today was interesting.  After an hour on the clock I told Terry, "Just so we're clear, nothing's gonna change between us just because you tattled on me."

Terry, who is big and dumb didn't quite understand at first.  "Huh?  Who tattled?"

I walked away & went to work in my area.  He came over several minuets later (I guess he had to think real hard about it) and said that if I wasn't a woman he would have gotten fired that day "with the way that you talked to me!"  (You see, he deserves respect simply because he's a man and I'm a lowly woman.  I don't have a complex or anything, it's just the way things are sometimes with some people.  Ask Allan about it sometime)

Some things I thought of too late after the fact:
"That's mighty strong words coming from a tattle tell."
"You call me when you have a dog that lives longer than 6 months & I'll give you the respect that you so clearly deserve."
"Dude, I would kick your ass!  Let's go!  Come on!"

What I said:  "If I wasn't at work I would've gotten REAL serious!"
Terry began speaking but I never heard the words that came out of his mouth.  Everything I said from the very beginning came out mono-toned and very calm.  "I don't think we have any reason to ever communicate again, Terry," I said calmly not once ever looking up from my work.  He could've been a voice floating in the air for all I know.

"Man, I don't even WANT to talk to you!" he stammered.  I pictured a child kicking the dirt and screaming, "We're not friends anymore!"

Calmly, without looking up; Terry STILL talking, I stated, "I'm done Terry, I am so done."  I may have said it more than once or twice.  I really didn't catch what he was saying because I was telling him how done I was.  He walked away and that was it.

Terry has been on the job for something like 4 years now.  Truthfully, he should be fine without my holding his hand all the time and catching all the things he'd forgotten.  We'll see.  We certainly will see.

I now, finally have learned my place.  If I had a dick and balls, I am quite certain things would be different with Allan.  "That's Allan's baby," said one coworker referring to Terry.  Another said, "Terry can do no wrong."

I'm starting to believe that what's Allan believes.  However, Allan still sees a need for Terry and I to communicate "in case he might have a question".  It's been over 4 years.  Terry should know how to wash the damn clothes by now.

And by the way, I COULD have kicked his ass if necessary.  He's big and slow and dumb.  That's a fatal combination in my neighborhood, last I checked.  (I'm small and feisty and also, I fight dirty)