Tag Archives: wishes

Goodbye Aisle 11


Today was my last day working at the grocery store.  That means I’m down to 2 jobs in case anyone is counting.  I am.

I liked working there; in a specialty aisle filled with organic and natural products.  Everything from diapers, hair colour, skin care, vitamin and mineral supplements, gluten-free items, cereals, potato chips and more, more, more.  I got to know this stuff pretty good.  I knew what belonged and what didn’t.  After a while I started to know the rest of the store too.  Keep in mind, this is a “big box” store aka HUGE.  Regular customers knew where to find me and sought me out.  These were mostly sweet little old ladies and gruff old guys and sometimes the other way around.  I would lead them right to what they were looking for in another part of the store.  I was always surprised at their faces when, after telling me they already looked down that aisle, I found it.  I would get so excited sometimes I would actually say, rather loudly, “Oh oh there it is!”

I know, not very dignified but I never claimed to be.

It always gave me a thrill when they knew my name and I totally forgot I wore a name tag.

When I started out in this job I could barely bend over, I huffed and puffed after only walking a few metres, my hips hurt so bad I hobbled and my feet were so swollen I couldn’t put shoes on.  This was all before I started work for the day.  Before each shift I took to taking some Arthritis Tylenol I found in the house.  Amazing how well it worked.  I realized today, my last day, that I hadn’t taken any of the Tylenol for a few weeks.  I was bending over, picking up boxes, and running around the store, on “No Tax” day no less, with barely a heave.  Mind you I’m still tired but I do have a crazy schedule.

There was one guy who would come in on a Sunday when I was working.  He had a basket and gradually filled it with different things from my section.  He would come over to ask me questions or my opinion on a product.  Often.  Very often.

After about the 3rd Sunday of this and he finally left the store, one of the grocery guys came over with a very annoyed look on his face and a full basket in his hands.  He asked, “any of this stuff look familiar to you?”  Of course it did.  It all came from my department.  All of it.  The grocery guy informed me this was the 3rd week in a row where they would find a basket filled with Aisle 11 products in it.  Gulp.

The next week the guy came in again.  I went to the bathroom.  For a long time.

The customers were great and the experiences I had with them were so good.  Even if something was negative (I can’t think of anything) it was always positive.  The staff, on the other hand, were just downright rude.  There must be something about earning minimum wage that puts an edge on people or a chip on their shoulder.  I barely had a friendly conversation with anyone, and not for lack of trying.  One guy I did talk to a couple of times told me something that curled my already curly hair.  He had been working there for 7 years and earned .35 and hour more than me!  Seven Years!  No wonder people are miserable.  The managers lord it over the staff; I heard, at least twice, a manager speaking to an employee in a very derogatory way.  No skills at all.  Another one today was so rude to a customer it was horrible.

Good to get out of there.  Now instead of the 75 hour weeks I’ve enjoyed the last little while I will be working 60.  I just spent 1/2 hour on MSN with my fella and going over my schedule and booking time with him.  Booked time with my sister at her cottage too. 

Schedules are great.

Please don’t give me shit for all the hours I have to work.  I know it’s a lot and I will soon have enough money to get a lawyer so Carly and I get what we need.  Then I can go back to one job and not be so desperate.  I care very much about myself and have already made changes about important things.  Since my days are going to be very long, I am eating a lot better.  I rest whenever I can and I plan to keep up with exercise (we have 2 flights of stairs to climb at my government job).  My meds are in order and my fella still loves me.  I have plans to grocery shop after work since Sobeys is now open 24 hours and so is Wal-Mart.  On my days off, my time is with Carly who, by the way, has a very busy summer all planned out for her.  When this contract with the feds ends, she and I will take a little vacation until the next one begins again.  Oh and she and I will be moving next month.  We shall bond over boxes.  And pizza.  We could afford pizza.

New adventures for me all over the place!  I hope you all stick with me as I know my writing may become sporadic. Here’s hoping it doesn’t.  I still love it and I love you.

In My Place


I walked through the door of the free Legal Clinic and gave my name to the receptionist who added me to a very, very long list.  He waved in the general direction of the waiting area.  I searched for a chair that would allow me to stretch my legs and protect my aching, swollen feet at the same time.  I had just worked 3 jobs in 2 days and I was there because I wanted this madness to end.

I brought my book, knowing anything free was going to take a while to get.  One by one, names were called, people went through the little door.  Surprisingly, no one came out.  Undeterred, I focused my attention on not falling asleep and on the powerful words of Mr. King.  Stephen, not Martin Luther.

Finally it was my turn.  I entered a tiny office that smelled of stale sweat, and old booze along with the pungent odor of cigarette soaked clothes.  I sat across from a young man, named Gordon; a law student.  He looked as tired as I felt.  He barely looked up as he pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

An interview started; why was I there, what did I expect the Clinic to do, what other avenues have I tried.  He expected brief answers.  I do not do brief very well but I gave it a shot.  He kept getting my name wrong.  He finally asked me to expand on why I was there when his cell phone rang.  Well, it buzzed.  He spoke into it briefly then hung up.  I hadn’t lost my rhythm at all.  He hasn’t looked at me once.

He shuffled papers, yawned openly, blew his nose and asked me questions I already answered and in a bored voice too, I might add.

He was getting a glazed look in his eyes.  I asked him a question.  He didn’t answer me.  Keep in mind I had been at that place for 3 hours already. I was anxious about going and this wasn’t helping.   I was feeling some tension and I frantically picked at my hangnails.  I felt stupid and in the way.  He got my name wrong again.  I asked him if he had the right file.

I said his name so he would look me in the eye.  He did finally.  “This may be just another case to you or another stat you need for the funding of this clinic, but I assure you this is the most important thing in my life right now and I resent the fact you are ignoring just how important it is.”

“If I was paying you, would it be different?  Is it because I am not a human to you with major problems that someone like you is supposed to fix?  Does your knowledge make you superior to me?  I work hard to empower myself, and take care of my family and just keep going.  Because of this legal issue, I have lost power in my life.  I need an expert who would be there to give that power back to me and my family.  I didn’t expect to be demeaned and have my self-confidence whittled away by the very person who is supposed to be dedicated to help.  me.”

Great huh?

None of it happened though.  Yet.  Don’t be mad at me.  I plan on going to the Legal Clinic (as soon as a day off I have coincides with when they are open)where I truly expect to be treated with contempt, much like I outlined above.  Based on my past experiences with Legal Aid and a private lawyer, indifference is what I will face. This is a good exercise for me or even therapy; create the scenario and it helps to be just about ready for anything.

I want to stop working so many jobs, soon it will be down to two but I will still have long, long hours.  I want the family home that my daughter and I do not live in, sold.  My ex has everything.  Everything.  I want child support every month.  I want food on the table.  I want bus fare for Carly and gas and repairs for our car.  I want furniture for fuck’s sake.  I want what is fair.  I want to spend time with my daughter instead of working 7 days a week, 14 hour days.

I’ll make it, I always do.  I say this more to myself then to readers.

What started all this?  Today I saw a woman I used to be very good friends with while my ex and I were still together.  That would be almost 20 years I knew her.  She and my other friends all encouraged me to leave him and as soon as I did, they disowned me.  Blessing though really.  Bad friends.  Anyway she was ahead of me at the check out with her $300 shoes and her $300 purse and her $300 tally at the register.  There I was in the shoes I just wore to my job at Superstore ($15) that don’t fit because my feet are so swollen, my Winners $10 pants covered with dust and stains from the job and my sweat soaked $3 white shirt from Value Village.  Glad I left the red vest with “Ask Me” in huge letters on the back in the car.  My cart consisted of lettuce, a cucumber, salad dressing, ground beef, burger buns and peanuts (a treat for Carly).

I didn’t notice her at first until she walked over and looked into my cart.  I don’t usually pay attention to people at the checkout but her shoes were something.  After the second time she approached me, this time to look at the gum, I finally realized who she was and looked AT her.  She was looking back at ME then she  deliberately turned her head away from me. Next she showed me her back.  My ex goes to her place and has dinner with her husband and family at least once a week.

This is the third time I’ve met someone I used to know from my former life.  It all ends the same.  Funny how it seems they want me to feel ashamed, take away from my self and “put me in my place”.  They have no idea that I feel so much better knowing I am away from that crowd and their narrow-mindedness. I haven’t missed them at all.   They knew me then and are missing out on the person I am now.  I, on the other hand, am missing out on nothing. They have money, I have happiness.

“Everybody’s Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey”  Lennon/McCartney 1968

Empower, enable, filled to capacity. I will not fall.  – Marie Boomer

Thanks, dear readers, for letting me vent.  Feel free to let me have it.

A Letter To My Friend Whom I’ve Never Met


Hello my Friend, Hello!

I really had to take time out of my busy schedule to let you know just what you’ve meant to me these last few weeks.  I’ve never known anyone quite like you and I totally love the times we’ve shared.

You have no idea what it means to someone like me when my public feelings are validated.  When you take the time to tell me how I affect you in your life or in that moment, I am totally shocked.  And touched.  And other indescribable things. I appreciate the fact that you want to and have the guts to tell your side of things to me. 

We are stronger together, more and more.

How could there be words to express to you how I feel because you took the time to spread my words to others.  I’m really not stupid or you wouldn’t want to be a part of my life.  My words actually mean something to someone besides myself.  I’m so glad it’s you.

I understand you want share the feelings I unleashed with a few simple words and statements.  Together we find meaning where it was hidden.  I feel there is now a totally new concept to the word “enable”. 

I’ve never meant to make you cry.  I know feelings can be overwhelming at times.  If I stirred up negative thoughts or memories, please realize I have them too.  I have them a lot.  You, my friend, have kept me sane.  I know you cry because I touched something deep inside.  It just needed a push to get out. 

You’re welcome for that.

I am filled with amazement and even puzzlement; you must understand my surprise and awe at your power.  I was NEVER popular and have had few friends. How can I describe what it means to me when I see more people wanting to know me, taking the time to reflect on my (??)point of view and wanting to become close to me. 

This happens because you said they should and because you believe in me.  That means more to me than I could ever tell you.

You have never met me.  I have never met you. Yet, I feel we’ve known each other forever.

All I can do is keep going, keep writing, keep having a reason to go on.  I promise to repay you in the only way I know you will accept.  I will spread the words of others who deserve the chance to shine.

Yes, that’s how I feel; all shiny. 

Thank you.

I love you,

Marie (mimicat12)

Wishes


I usually make a wish every morning on my way to work.  I go through an underpass with a train moving above me.  The superstition is (and I am very superstitious) as you drive under the bridge you take your feet off the floor, close your eyes, lick your thumb and thunk it to the ceiling of the car all while you make your wish.  Make sure the train is above you and moving.  I have been doing this for years and I have learned to be careful what I wish for.

One time I wished for money.  Found a nickel that very day.  Big whup. 

I tried to be more specific and wished to win the lottery.  I got $2 that Friday.  Not really what I had in mind.

Many times I wished for things beyond my control (yeah, like winning money isn’t beyond my control?) such as wishing my ex had loved me enough or my son to quit smoking or someone would give me as much chocolate I want.  I learned that wishing for things that involve other people just do not come true.  I think those things have already been decided.  Kinda have to do stuff for myself most of the time.

Mostly what I wish for is for my mental illness to stabilize and it has, many times.  Unfortunately or fortunately, however you want to look at it.  I cannot wish it away because it won’t go away and I really don’t mind having bi-polar disorder, as long as my meds are working.  Up to as recently as a month ago, my meds were sliding and that is not good.  That means I was sliding and I hate that.  So much.  My Dr. G. fixed me up tout suite with an increase, and after 2 weeks in spite of the horrible side effects, I can’t believe how I feel: wonderful.  Gone is the anxiety and I love how I am able to see things more clearly.  No depressive episodes, no paranoia; I feel on top of the game.  Today Dr. G. wanted me to go back to the former dose because of the side effects but I said no.  I want to hold on to this amazing confidence I know is always there but suppressed because of my illness.  I know the unpleasant side effects will go away.  In fact they are better already.

So what should one wish for?  My advice is to keep it simple.  Just wish for things to be better. 

Oh, and I just remembered there are 2 chocolate bars in my purse!

Oh, and don’t crash into anything.