Fruitcake Anyone?

In March, when mysteriously abandoned my blog, I got a job at a Curves. (For those living in the dark ages, an excellent fitness center designed for women). It seemed so perfect and wonderful. I’d get out of the house. Earn a little spending cash. Most signicantly, I hoped to help people improve their way of life. It’s good to have a dream.

I have since learned that I do not have the temperment to work in an environment of women. My Curves has about 800 members. Any one ever tried to make 800 women happy?

I am not thick-skinned. And I’m a perfectionist (though I’d like to believe a recovering perfectionist). One very unhappy lady and a couple of very minor incidents were enough to show me that I’m not cut out for this. Much in the same way I will never do day care, be a nurse, or drive a school bus.

As a wife and mother, there have been good reasons all along for not working, but I felt like I was working for the greater good. God has showed me it’s time to be done with that.

So now I’ve given notice. My boss really doesn’t want me to leave (the ladies I worked with were really great) and I’ll be working through November. It’s hard to quit, but I believe they can find someone that will fit better than me. In fact, a student from Cornerstone came in late last week looking for an application. I really hope it works for her.

Now I have to deal with being a “mom”. For some reason, the conservative undertones of a mom just scare the crap out of me. Gotta get over that. I’m gonna be a mom for a long time.

Some times I wonder how I manage to dress myself in the morning.

Beer and baseball just don’t mix. I know it’s tradition. I know it’s expected. But how on earth does FOX expect me to enjoy a cold frosty one and manage to stay up past the National Anthem. Someone’s gotta think these things through.

And what about foul balls? How many times have I seen the nice lady in the row below get doused with half a glass while Bob behind her is scrambling to catch the gem headed his way? And what about poor Bob? He paid $10 for that glass a beer. Now his only choice is to suck the other half off the lady’s shirt. If he’s had enough of the aforementioned beverage, he just might give it a try. For $10 concession should at least provide a top and bendy straw. Is a sippy cup too much to ask for? Maybe the guys with those oh-so-sexy beer dispensing hats had the right idea.

I shudder at the thought.