It’s been another long week. I managed to work the bakery, the Italian restaurant, and the wine bar/cafe. I’m tired, and a bit cranky.
The truck Bill has me driving made the week with no break lights, no signals, no A/C (in Southern heat), no side mirror, and no horn. I’ve been feeling frustrated as Bill drives around in a truck that has 90 grand into it. Our friend Dan is working on it now….while Bill is sleeping. I feel like I’m working my ass off, and not getting the support I should.
The house is a mess, I’m falling behind at the bakery (even though my new extern is amazing), and I feel like he should he helping me, not letting Dan fix the truck. I expected to come home from work today, and him be here…..maybe picking up the house for me. He wants friends to come over later, and the house is a disaster. Kaila moved out, and that makes me sad.
I’m also really homesick. Today my friend Becky is getting married back home….and I’m almost 1,000 miles away. I should be home. Getting a text from my friend Megan asking if we are going to her wedding next month didn’t help. She’s getting married just three hours away, and I can’t afford to go…even if I am working 90 hours a week.
The Italian restaurant is so slow, I’m not even making minimum wage most days, but I can fit it in my schedule, and I need the money.
Bill goes home to Illinois in a few weeks. I’m upset. I want time off, I want to go home, and I’m tired of being on survival mode. I fear I can’t get out of this mess. I fear I’m not going to keep the bakery open. I fear I’m failing….and I’m doing it by myself.
Dan put the new part in for the truck. No luck. Part of me wants to go inside, wake Bill up, and tell him to fix all this shit. Part of me wants to give up on all this…..or maybe crash this truck. The final part of me just wants to cry.
On the inside of Bill’s lip is a tattoo that reads “Cowboy Up.” I think my next tattoo is “Cowgirl Up” on the inside of my lip. I need a reminder to do that every now and again.
The Tattooed Baker 