I Want to Run A Way.

My life is so depressing. I am a waitress. I bring fattening food to people. I print their checks and put them on their tables. I serve them 100% against that which I value. I cater at trashy weddings. I watch as sloshed brides and grooms dance their wedding night away into drunken oblivion. I disassemble their tacky centerpieces with fake glowing candles. I try not to judge, but my brain sometimes gets the best of this resolution.

I have always want to write a book about how to stay healthy as a waitress/ in the service industry, but I have no idea how to accomplish this feat because as I write this, I am up at 12:16am, a glass of red wine in hand, trying to get myself to calm down emotionally and physically after the evening. I had my fingers in chocolate frosting and did not indulge, despite the fact that my blood sugar plummeted to it’s lowest depths. I have firmly resolved to EAT NOTHING from this particular restaurant. My hands are raw because I obsessively wash them during my shift, disgusted by the sight (never mind the FEEL) of Ranch dressing. My feet and legs are killing me, begging for a yoga inversion of some kind. My hair is a greasy mess, I got a new pimple on my face today. Why on earth am I 26 years old and back here? This is not only affecting me, it’s affecting others as well. Others whom I love, they hear my daily sob stories, but most of all they contend with my ridiculous schedule, that changes on a dime, and then changes back again. They probably are looking down at me and thinking, “Why can’t this girl get a real job?” Well, I am wondering the same thing.

Why can’t I find my True North?

Get my act together?

Well honestly, they judge though they may, they don’t have to feel the deep and agonizing inner pain that I am going through at this moment, judging myself, beating myself up, and then tearing myself to pieces and spitting myself out. They don’t have the mascara running down their cheeks that I do right now. I want to run away from all this. This haunting past life that holds me down, that binds me to finding something that keeps me from doing the very thing I want to do the most. To just live and love my life.

But that is all I do is run. Isn’t that what we all do when we don’t like a situation?
What does it look like to stay? To pay the price? I guess I will find out. Tomorrow. Through tear-blurred eyes.


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