Welcome home!

I am already trying not to lose my shit and I've only been home for an hour! When I come back from a lengthy vacation, I expect to be glad of my return, not reminded of why I couldn't wait to leave in the first place. I'm not even going to waste the effort it'd take to make this a full rant. Let me just make it perfectly clear that I have exhausted every possible second chance and excuse for the person who is the source of my frustration. Emotional walls are up and I feel nothing for this person; no pity, no sympathy, no inkling of fondness. It's a complete shut-out as far as I'm concerned, and that doesn't make me a bitch, it makes me smart because guess how much bullshit I need in my life? NONE POINT NONE.

Calling it a night.

I cannot believe how bad I am at closing my store. I know what needs to be done in general, but my sense of timing is way off. The last half hour is a mad dash to do everything and we still get out late every time. This kills me.

I am a perfectionist when it comes to work. I didn't get my credibility as a supervisor by wearing a smile and kissing ass. I get shit done. Period. And that's how it needs to be, always. After I come back from vacation, I'm coming up with a detailed strategy for success because I'll be damned if anyone ever has a chance to say, "Aw man, I have to work with Jes!" Um, NEVER IN YOUR LIFE.

Maybe it's just me.

But I don't know if I'll ever be a good fit for anyone but myself.

Get out & stay out!

My dad is cleaning the house right now as a form of self-therapy. Hi, it's 10:47 p.m., you loon.

I don't know how to get my parents to stay out of my room and I am honestly starting to get a little irate about it. It's hard to really explain well, but I'll give it a try. I know I'm living under their roof--actually, it's technically just my dad's roof because he's the one paying the mortgage--but this is my room. It's my one teeny tiny claim to independence and I wish to all hell that they would just let me have this. I keep my room tidy and I've been nearly obsessive about cleaning it lately and I just think that I'm old enough for my parents to stop following behind me and cleaning up after me even though I've already cleaned up after myself! I don't even care if it's therapeutic for my dad to bust out all of his household cleaning products this late at night. Scrub the entire place until the paint starts to wear off the walls, but leave my room alone. I don't understand why this is difficult!

What really irks me is when I walk into my room and see something out of place. Do not play games with me like I don't spend almost of all my time in this bedroom when I'm not at school or work! Yes, I sure as hell did notice that someone was in here because my reading chair was moved. I angle it in a very particular way and even if it had only been budged an inch, I sure as shit would know it. I swear to God, I would feel it. The icing on this rant cake is that my dad was in here to vacuum the floors. HELLO, I LITERALLY DID THAT MYSELF YESTERDAY. Efffffff!

Every age is a tough age when it comes to dealing with your parents, in my opinion, but it's becoming clearer and clearer that I am well into a transitional phase. My mind knows it's time to move on and move out. The question is: when?

Buck up.

My new goal every day is to make the best of that day's situations. I figure that if I start small like this, then the bigger picture will have an easier time falling into place.

The more new information I receive from various sources about the reasons I was transfered, the more I see it as a blessing in disguise. It's something like an unmade bed. I mean, sure, it's comfortable because it's been slept in, but at some point you have to shake out the comforter and smooth the whole thing out because everything is all twisted and in disarray. Maybe that's a terrible analogy, but it's what just came to me when I considered how a huge part of my life is being shaken up, haha. And I constantly have to remind myself, it could always be worse!

Some of my regular customers at my home store have come in to see me at my new store. I have to say, it really warms my heart. It's hard to think that I make any type of difference in the world as a barista, but I think my job is one that is unseen, sometimes even undervalued. No, in the event of a crisis you won't be asking, "WHERE'S MY BARISTA??" (well, maybe some people will, haha) but I know that for me, I really appreciate when someone takes the time to make me a really good drink, ask me about my life, and wish me a great day. It's just one more, albeit tiny, reason to smile.

Lone ranger.

I never believed I'd be saying this, but I can't wait to get back to school.

Something about this summer feels amiss. Now that I don't work at the store I helped to open and have since remained at or near for the last five years, something really feels off. I get the sense that I am being punished. No, I get the sense that I am in some type of limbo.

I don't know how to describe it. My life right now feels like I'm caught in a place between the past and the future, but it hangs above the present instead of being in it. I get the feeling that I should've moved on or I should be moving on now, but something is keeping me back, some "unfinished business." I know I'm not an actual ghost, but really, what's the difference if you're still haunting all the same places, going through the motions, and not knowing where to go next?

I want to move forward with my life--albeit in baby steps because I am greatly unsettled by sudden, huge changes--so I'm wondering if I shouldn't just be glad that I was more or less booted from my store? Why do I feel like God is saying, "Well, I knew you wouldn't leave of your own accord, so I had to push you out"? Even if that's true, which it is, it still doesn't seem fair. I like to be in control of what happens to me, even when it means that all I decide is to stay put. And yet, I'm not even sure how I call it a "decision to stay put" when the truth is that it's a failure to act due to paralysis from fear. I'm not as grown up as I like to think.

I ought to be embracing this new change and trying to see the opportunities in it, but it's hard to be positive. It's especially difficult when the word going around is that they didn't want me at my store anymore because I'm friends with everyone. I don't know exactly why that stings, but it does. On a professional level, it makes me feel like a failure for not maintaining strict boundaries like I guess I should have been doing all along. On a personal level, I feel lame because most if not all of my friends are from work and I haven't done much to leave work at work. And in general, I'm just kind of hurt and angry because I feel singled out, even though I'm not the only one guilty of fraternization. In fact, I'd argue that I'm the least of anyone's concerns. 

I'm worried. My passion for anything, including my job which I have clung to so closely for the last several years, is dwindling. Hanging out with friends is starting to feel forced and unnatural, like some kind of chore. I want to be alone almost all the time. I'm becoming a recluse. 

Decision, enforced.

I was transferred to a different store even though I thought I had the ultimate say over whether or not I'd go. Straight up hoodwinked. Damn.

Thanks a latte.

I really can't make up my mind about my job. I have such a love/hate relationship with it, which I guess is pretty standard for most people, but I don't want to dread going to work. If I'm not enjoying what I do, then really, what the hell is the point? I don't know if you could pay me enough to be passionless for eight hours a day, five days a week, or more.

It's a blessing and a curse to have a strong work ethic, I can tell you that much. On the one hand, it's great because people want to hire you and have you on their team. You feel like you are making a legitimate contribution to some effort or cause, like you are fully responding to some greater calling. On the other hand, people are assholes and exploit the shit out of you. Eventually, they discover that conjunction between how much of yourself you're willing to invest and how little effort it takes to convince you to carry some or all of their weight. They use a delicate blend of praise and guilt, and before you know it, you're doing everything by yourself.

So now, I'm not quite sure if I'm being edged out or what. I'm still analyzing the hell out of it all.