Tell me...is there a sign on my forehead or something?

For real...is there?

Sometimes I'm wondering if it says:

Directory Assistance

My office is on a large corner lot and people often stop in for directions or phone numbers. There have been quite a few new businesses opening up recently. I really don't mind helping folks out, but why do they get pissed with ME because I don't know what they're looking for? Gawd, I mean really though! Sometimes they won't even know the name of the place. They'll just come in asking if I know where the place that sells such- and-such is, then when I tell them I'm sorry no, I will hear a repeat of the same question. Next thing you know I'm looking up information in the business park guide in an attempt to help. I try and be nice but sometimes I feel frustrated.

Complaint Department

There's this guy that works in production. He's in his mid-forties and really struggles to keep his life in order. He moves often because of poor choice in roommate or whatever. He's been bitching steady about how he does all this work for his landlord and she won't pay him. Since he's been going over the same stuff for the last couple of months I finally told him exactly what I thought of it all. I said "Listen, do you owe her money? Is she using this as a means of payment? If not, you have no obligation to do this shit for free man. YOU'RE the only one who can fix it. Just tell her no if you don't want to do it. If you aren't going to do anything to work on your own circumstance, then don't talk to me about it please." If that sounds harsh, I'm sorry but it's true. I know everyone needs to talk things through, but if you're talking and not doing...nothing changes.

Am I your bitch?

This must appear most because many people feel they can speak to me however they like and I'll still do exactly what they want me to do. This is work related stuff, of course. Summertime is so busy. I love those days because they fly by and there's always more to do. People are very demanding and impatient though. I find it amazing how many people will refuse to take any responsibility for bad behavior in that regard. Just cause I'm the first voice you hear DOES NOT give you the right.


I'm just sayin...

Back to the hood

Sid was playing at his friend's place for a bit this afternoon, Seth was lounging on the couch watching tv...so I took the opportunity to run out and grab some fruits, veggies and beer. Yeah, yeah it doesn't really match but oh well. I needed a few lunch items for the boys and I wanted some beer since I'm heading over to the neighbor's once Sid goes to sleep to hang out with some ladies for a couple of hours. It's nice that Seth is old enough to stay here without me for short periods of time. He can step out the front door and call to me at her house so I'm quite comfortable.

Back to the story...

On my drive I listened to Pink: I'm Not Dead *which is fabulous by the way* and was flooded with memories as I made my approach to the grocery store. See, I was back in my childhood neighborhood. Back where I lived with Mom. I suppose if I'd grown in a very large city, I would have been in an "inner city" community. Lots of single parent/low income families. I've spoken here before about how diverse it was and also how much I've learned from the experience.

I drove into the parking lot of the store thinking about how it used to be a K-Mart store. My mother was a waitress. She worked in the K-Mart cafeteria for several years before she passed. She was a hard working woman who didn't have much but did what she could. We lived within walking distance...which totally rocked since we didn't have a car. My brother and I used to walk from our apartment building down to K-Mart for 2 things...to visit Mom, and to get a treat. In the centre of the store there was an ice-cream stand. They had the usual variety but that wasn't the attraction. It was the cotton candy. Mmm mmm pure sugar satisfaction for sure. These thoughts were in the forefront of my mind today.