No More Salad


E-mail this post



Remember me (?)



All personal information that you provide here will be governed by the Privacy Policy of Blogger.com. More...



I have decided if I am going to continue at Chick-Fil-A in my intentions to become a manager, no matter how tempting it is, I will not stoop to becoming a manager by trying to get on the "good" side of the other managers. I will continue to work hard, and be a leader.

Because, for one, it is impossible to always stay on the good side of some of those managers, they are on constant PMS. Secondly, that isn't the type of manager I want to become. If I want to be a good manager I need to continue to hold myself to a higher standard even if they don't care. I am in a slight paradox at the moment. I know that the top management wants to help me become a manager, but they want to work with the immediate manangers. And the immediate managers... are podges of the first order, and they don't want to help me become a manager, much less be nice to me in general. So, I have decided to perservere, that is really my only option.

Zeke as usual is obsessed with exercising and dieting. I am beginning to feel a certain sympathy for my sisters and what they used to put up from me. Maybe this is God's way of teaching me a lessons. Maybe this is God's way to get me motivated. Maybe this is God's way of teaching me patience. Maybe this is God's way of DRIVING ME CRAZY! I have adopted this nod/smile demeanour. Any time he starts talking about dieting/exercising/obesity/fat/etc I just let my eyes glaze over, spread my lips thinly across my teeth in a kind of cat smile and immediately begin thinking of a thousand other things. I just wonder, why doesn't JOY have a boyfriend like this so she can get a taste of her own medicine?

Sigh. Two people who I am closest to are bordering on eating disorders. It's enough to give you one. At times I feel bad being aggrivated, but I think I have made it clear that I get sick of hearing about it. But I know that it is important to him, so I don't want to press the issue. Anyway. Maybe I will live off bagles and cream cheese and balloon to 185. Or then again, that is a rather nauseating thought. Maybe not.

Just had a brilliant thought! Maybe all Zeke's talking is to get me motivated, or get me to loose weight. Hmm. Maybe. I am still trying to figure out what I want to do. I hate working out with people. It's pushing it to work out with my sisters. I HATE it. I hate it just like I hate eating in front of people. It makes me feel so slow and fat and ugly and repulsive. Anyway.

This has been a nice pout/rant/self-centered post. I am sure truely spiritual people don't even indulge in such things, especially on their blogs. But I think that is what blogs are for sometimes. So if you have a problem, get over it.


2 Responses to “No More Salad”

  1. Blogger joy 

    I am not bordering on an eating disorder. I am surrounded by skinny pageant girls, that's all. *grin*

    I can't tell you how proud I am of you when you go through those periods of being happy about your weight. I almost feel envious of your confidence. You go sistah.

  2. Blogger Mark 

    From what I've gathered it doesn't matter how high up you go, or how many people work under you, you will still work for someone, while you become a "bigger boss", the bigger of a boss they are. And the more stress you have to go through, and more work you have to do. Yes you do get paid more, in most situations. There is a happy middle ground, but finding that place is harder than being a worker-bee or a manager.

Leave a Reply

      Convert to boldConvert to italicConvert to link

 


This odd narrative is my life. I ended up in Pittsburgh, of all places--from the beach. I have no hobbies, other than cooking excessively and eating microwave popcorn. I enjoy shopping, the Food network, hiding the remote so the Food network cannot be turned off, find ethnic food stores and restaurants and reading voraciously. My life is decidedly pedestrian.


I worked in the car business where I was required to be ruthless and soul-less wench, which is when I started this project. Since then, I've kept it up because secretly, I've always wanted to join the military. Every male in my mother's family has joined and I quietly entertain thoughts of joining. I haven't yet and don't know if I ever will, but sending the troops cookies keeps me sane. it makes me think I still have a shred of human kindness left in my withering soul. it's a small way for me to salute the men and women who are brave enough to fight for freedom. And makes me feel like I'm contributing toward troop morale--even if I'm not. So if you want to help, send me addresses of troops you know stationed overseas. you may also contribute toward the cost of chocolate chips, but don't feel obligated, that link is here only by request.


the past

archives


ATOM 0.3