My life has changed yet again. Last Friday, I was called into the office at work for an unofficial six-month review. Bottom line? My performance is not up to par. At this point, I should be ringing up sales, schmoozing with customers, slinging and serving hot and cold drinks, toasting sandwiches, and more. By myself.
Don't get me wrong. I can do it all. Just not by myself.
Worse, there are times when the line gets long, people are carrying on conversations, and the espresso beast is roaring. The ADHD kicks in, my brain freezes, and I can no longer remember my name, much less what the person in front of me just ordered.
Those of you who identify as neurodivergent can probably relate to that last thing—that harrowing moment when overwhelm takes over and there is nowhere to run, no chance of retreat, and you are paralyzed, eyes wide in the path of an oncoming train.
I was learning. And adjusting. But the truth is, I'm not cut out for cafe work. It's quite physical, for one. My hands are in and out of bleach water, for two. And I don't work enough hours each week to build the muscle and brain memory to do the job well.
In Friday's conversation, I was given a choice. Go through an intense four-week retraining, meeting the benchmarks along the way. Or leave. She was very kind and compassionate and asked me to think about it over the weekend. But, I knew that no amount of training was going to make me proficient, much less enjoy the hard work. Not to mention the noxious bleach. The rest of that day, I waxed and waned between relief and dread.
Then, Saturday, at D-Man's basketball game, I watched a gangly little girl take the inbounded ball and dribble down the court—at chin level. I was transported in time to me at that age doing the same, desperately trying to play a game for which I have no skill. Baseball? Same.
It hit me then and the shame dissipated. I'm not good at everything. Especially physical endeavors. In fact, I spent 50 years in careers that used my big brain—not my brawn. And as the saying goes:
THAT WAS THAT.
So, Monday was my last day. Yes, I cried. It's tough admitting I'm not great at something. And I miss Jaz and Sequoia. But leaving was the right choice. For me and for them.
I would like to tell you that I immediately jumped back into my new novel, CROSSED, CURSED, & NEARLY DEAD. I didn't. Instead, I gave myself permission to do nothing. I watched old shows, cooked, napped, slept, and rested while the Wyoming wind roared and temperatures dipped into negative digits.
But, now I'm restless. Today, the temps will reach the 40s. I'll do a bit of shopping. Maybe take my laptop, have a burger at Chili's, and write a scene for CC&ND. Go to the kitchen store for a microplane grater and bottles for making my own ginger ale. Reed's is expensive and Canada Dry is all chemicals.
And, who knows. Maybe I'll run by the library to see my friends and take some of the sugar cookies I made yesterday. Or, at least say HI and get a quick hug.
Have you had any life-changing events recently? How are you doing with that?
From my heart to yours, Olivia/O. J.❤️
P.S. If you enjoy my weekly essays from the heart, you might also enjoy my fiction. I’ve linked the first chapters/previews below.
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⭐Now, here are those previews I promised. Enjoy!✨
