This past year I have had a plethora of post ideas. I have written them in my head. I have lugged my mac book with me to get ahead of posts because I was finally going to get the ball rolling. But then I found myself tired at night, telling myself that I will get to the post tomorrow and then it’s a week later, or like our Disney World trip it’s been eight months. I dream of sharing the pretty pictures I just had to snap making my family patiently wait to eat a delectable dessert just to get that one picture. I feel like I have shared this story with my one reader, I am pretty sure that I am my only reader and that’s okay! My virtual space has taken the backseat. This past year was horrible in terms of work. I found myself drowning every week, not that I was too busy because I bring that on myself with overextending myself with volunteering and other nonsense. I hated my work life. I despised that I was in the same industry I have been in since I was sixteen. It’s embarrassing and it shouldn’t be. I took on several roles at work, for six months I was the GM, the bar manager and the marketing director. Shifts I was scheduled as the bartender I wore all of these hats. I survived but I am burnt the fuck out. I was not appreciated by all and it took a toll on my family and I. They are the ones that always suffer. It didn’t sink in until Payton one day said that mommy is only good at working. My heart sank into a pile of mush and I secretly cried in the passenger seat. My then six-year-old thinks I am only good at working. Now, I know where a lot of this comes from. It’s not that I am absent many nights of the week but that I over emphasize to my children when we are out and about how not to act when they are in the working world. I want them to be conscientious of their attitude and their willingness to help others. I want them to have a stellar work ethic like me and their daddy. A few months ago I was finding myself crying after every shift. I wanted to walk-out almost night, but because I know I am better than this I stay. Right before Thanksgiving I had an impromptu meeting with the owner who took me off of marketing. I obliged, because I knew I had to. I hadn’t been giving it my all because after all those months of wearing three hats and minimally compensated for the work I was doing I started to drop the ball on marketing. The fact that my actual paychecks would be void sent me into a deep depressed state. I found out minutes after the meeting that he lied to me on the reasoning why. I left the meeting semi-relieved but then was saddened that I was lied to. I have worked there for almost ten years. I had that sinking falling feeling in my gut again. I don’t matter. My sacrifices mean nothing. It is a business after all. New management continually changing and the same formula happening with each new face. I am the bad guy. I am the reason we are failing. Yet, when they fail I am called upon to pick-up the pieces. This time after going through five GM’s in less than two-years I am done being the bad guy. I am not the bad guy. I am a percentage of why you still have a standing business because your regulars love me and I have service industry values I pride myself on. This is why my daughter says I am great at working. I take pride in everything I put my heart in. My years of working in this establishment are dwindling down. I am taking charge of my life. I am more than scared because if you truly know me you know that I dread change. It scares the shit out of me. I am shy and I don’t like being the center of attention. I cringe when I think that I am taking a leap of faith thanks to my parents whom I am sure are sick of hearing me cry to them about work. They are making this leap possible. My prayer for 2017 is optimism, strength and courage as I embark on the unknown.