Miles Away from The Happiest Place on Earth

I am an on a three hour flight back home to Winter Haven, Florida, having come up to Michigan Thursday for my oldest nephew’s wedding. The wedding was lovely, the bride was beautiful, and the food and DJ were okay. The weather was beyond cold.

I should be happy.

What I am is tired, hungry, in need of the potty, and pissed off.

Why?

I’m flying into Orlando. As in home of Disney World. As in every kid’s dream destination: The Happiest Place on Earth.

I’m flying Frontier Air today.

First and last time. Period. #WorstAirlineEver

To start out on the right, or rather, the WRONG foot, their website and app are USELESS.

You cannot check-in online. I tried numerous times. Coming and going.
On my phone. On my tablet. On Roy’s laptop. Mobile Site. Desktop Site. App.

Nothing. Bumpkis. Nada.

Okay. Whatever. So I get to the airport, return the rental car, and wait in line. Cost $45 to carry on OR check my bag, so I check. Go through security, which was significantly more stringent in Grand Rapids than in Orlando. Go figure.

Notice ALL the kids and think, “Great… This is not going to be The Flight From Hell AT ALL.”

*SIGH*

Sure enough, not even halfway into the flight, it’s… Actually not as bad as I feared.

Except for the one kid.

Who continues to scream and sob not-stop.

And I mean, I get it. I do. He’s tired, bored, and cranky. He needs a nap. He needs some durn Benadaryl. He needs to just STOP. Besides, this is not an infant. He’s at least three and he should know better.

For the first time in a VERY long time, the thought goes through my head that a dirty martini would make this entire situation more bearable. Just a fleeting thought, but it's there, nonetheless, and I have to acknowledge it and quash it. Because, I don't do that anymore. Period. End of story. Finito.

So. I can’t sleep. I have to pee and the Fasten Seatbelts Sign is on. Again. My eyes hurt and my vision is blurry due to lack of sleep (never can sleep the night before traveling), so I can’t read. I have a movie I can watch, but I don’t think I can enjoy it because of needing to pee.

Did I mention I REALLY need to pee?

So, I’m going to focus a moment on what I have to be grateful for right now.

I am grateful for:

1. My oldest nephew finding lasting love.
2. My wonderful family, including my 80 year old parents
3. My husband who will be waiting for me at the airport in Orlando
4. Mothers who give their children Benadryl before flying (bless you)
5. Adult diapers, one of which I wish I were wearing right now
6. Almost eleven years of sobriety
7. Frontier (at least to my knowledge), has not yet been the subject of an #AirDisasters episode
8. That I type so slow, we now only have 45 minutes left to go before landing

Did you know, takeoff and landing are the most dangerous portions of a flight?

#SackedAtSixty

Originally Posted on My Blog, Sixty Something Style, 12/23/2017

Well, it finally happened.

After a year of trying my best and failing miserably, I lost my job just before the holidays.

As in terminated

This is a job I had for more than six years, but only a year in the most recent location. I was able to transfer when we moved to west Florida last year, and it's been brutal ever since.

So, it was expected, but still devasting, hurtful and humiliating.

Worse, it means the loss of not only income, but health insurance.

I'm sixty, and will be sixty-one soon. I don't want to be brooding and negative, but what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks kind of job am I realistically going to be able to get?

I did say a while back that this is an exciting age because I can start a new career.

Yeah.

So much easier to write than to actually do.

I have zero confidence, zero motivation, and zero idea of what even interests me that I can do and get paid for at this point.

The rubber has met the road, folks, and my tires are flat.

Things I'd LIKE To Say

This is a draft from way back in 2011 when I had just started working at my bank teller job from which I was fired this past December. Guess it never did quite work out for me... Anyway, back then, I guess I was scared that someone from Real Life would see it, and I'd be Deuced as a result. Now, that's moot,  so might as well put it out there for the world to see.

(An ironic and amusing aside: this customer eventually became one of my favorites and would wait for me to serve her.)

Stupid? Maybe. But at nearly 61 years of age, I no longer give a rat's patootie! So here it is: the post that never was supposed to see the light of day:

Yesterday was the busisest day in a grueling week at work.  We didn't even get lunch hours. Just ordered pizza and tried to grab a few bites between customers.

For some reason, it seems people are ruder today than they've ever been, or maybe I've just been out of face-to-face customer contact for too long and have forgotten.

Whatever the reason, yesterday seemed to bring out the loonies, and I seemed to end up with the lion's share of them.

OR, it may be that I'm more anxious and irritable since I'm trying to stop smoking ONE MORE TIME.

Anyhoo, the worst of the day was the older lady who asked me point blank, "Why are you so slow doing this?"

The comment caught me so off guard, that instead of blinking back the immediately welling tears and choosing to respond gently or laughing it off or just plain ignoring her rudeness, I did the unthinkable.

I retorted.

"Ma'am, you're perfectly free to choose to go to a different teller in the future!" I finished up the transaction, practically threw her money at her and wished her a good weekend.

No apology. From either of us.

What I SHOULD have said was, "Oh, I apologize, but we've been so busy I was finishing up the transaction before yours, and I'm new so I'm still working on getting my speed up.  Let's see... just cashing a check? Here you go, Mrs. So-and-So. Thanks so much for your patience, and have a wonderful weekend."

What I wanted to say, and in some ways wish I COULD say is this:

1. Oh, I'm sorry, Mrs. So-and-So, but I don't know you from Adam's housecat, and you've provided no ID with the check you want to cash, so I'm having to look up your account and customer information and make a judgment call on whether to offend you by asking for your driver's license, or just take a chance and cash a $100 check for a complete stranger.
2. Excuse me? Really?? Weren't you raised with better manners than that?
3. Why are you so damn ugly?
4. Why are you such a bitch?
5. Why are you so rude?
6. I realize I've possibly waited on you in the past 6 weeks I've been here, and I know I really should remember you out of the 1200 customers I serve every week, even though I've probably only seen you once or twice, but I don't. You come in here and hand me a check and expect me to fork over money without knowing for sure this account belongs to you, and I want to take a few precautions to ensure that you are who you say you are and I'm not helping someone else have access to your money.
7. I don't work the drive-thru. That means I don't have a machine that spits money out for me that I don't have to verify.  I actually have to physically get money out of my drawer and COUNT it before I give it to you. Twice.
8. Because I need another cup of coffee. Be a doll, and walk over to McDonald's and get me a large, will ya? 2 creams, no sugar.
9. It's a genetic defect. What's your excuse?
10. Because I'm exhausted from having to wait on customers like you all week. Here's your money. Now get outta my face.

Oh, and one more thing I'd like to say: SCREW YOU, REGIONS BANK!!

(Uh-oh. Did I just type that out loud??)

One Sip Away From a Slip

So, interesting. 

I had a comment on an old post just out of the blue. Would not have even known if I didn't check my email,  since I haven't posted here for eons.

The comment was from a fellow sober alcoholic who is contemplating beginning a blog as well.  What follows is most of my responding comment to her: 

Blogging certainly helped me gain a stronger foothold, especially in the earlier days before I had a good foundation IRL. I was blessed to find a group of regular sober bloggers that not only supported me, but called me out on my BS when necessary. Unfortunately, not many of them, or I for that matter, are still very active within the blogosphere. 

How long have you been sober? For me, it's almost eleven years now. It's still hard at times. I still have drinking dreams from which I awake feeling horror, shame, and self-loathing until I realize it's just a dream. Usually, it's a sign that I'm dealing with a lot of stress. I've learned to take it as a warning that I need to confront and work through the issues at hand.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I still believe that one day I'll be able to drink "normally" again, although intellectually, I know this is a lie straight from the pit of Hades. 

My point, if indeed I have one, is that this is a disease that never goes away. There is no "cure" for alcoholism. Once an alcoholic, always an alcoholic. Having double digit years of sobriety isn't a badge, but a reminder that no matter how many years one has, like the newbie, we are all just one sip away from a slip. Complacency creeps in and we feel invulnerable, and that's a terrifying place to be.

I have personally seen people who were sober icons with 20+ years under their belts come back to the rooms and whitechip. Not where I ever want to be. I haven't been to a meeting in years, and your commenting on my blog is a huge wakeup call that I'm fooling myself if I believe I can do this alone. None of us can. We may think we're sober alcoholics, but we're just dry drunks, [if we believe that lie].

Blog. It's therapeutic, it keeps you honest and accountable, it's a great place to rage and vent. Just don't substitute it for being involved in a real life community of actual people who are like minded and are also in recovery. Go to meetings and develop a close group of sober confidants.

Don't try to make your spouse or significant other, your church, or non-alcoholic friends or family members your recovery community. They're not, and they cannot fill that role. Having an expectation of them to do so will end up with your feeling disappointed, betrayed, and resentful. Don't shut them out. Just let them be what they're supposed to be. 

Sorry if this sounds like a lecture. I'm writing more to remind myself of what I need to remember, rather than offering unsolicited advice! For all I know, I could well be preaching to the choir! I hope that's the case. I wish you the best in life and in recovery.

So, there it is, folks. Where I am, where I'm not, where I need to be,  and what I need to do to get there.

Are any of my old sober community bloggers still out there? We need each other, and we need to be there for the newbie or the fellow seasoned traveler who happens to stumble upon our journey journals, aka, our blogs. We need to start posting and reading and commenting again. 

I will if you will.