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Wednesday, May 11 So, Fiddler is over. It was a good run; one of the best the group has had in a long time. I’ve always loved the show. The songs, the emotion. The need for tradition. The need for change. I found out yesterday that another position is being added. I was told that the person they’re searching for would have more of an HR background than I started with and be groomed to move into a Specialist position. Today, I found out that a senior position I was told does not exist and to stop asking about, does in fact exist and was given to a person I trained. I feel like I’ve been slapped in the face. And so, I’m done. I’ll work because I get paid to do so. No more encouraging posters or cute drawings for teammates. I’ll answer the phone and write job descriptions. I’ll run salary surveys and send handbooks to print. I’m done going above and beyond to get noticed by management. I’m done working through lunch to get things done ahead of schedule. I’m done doing any more than what I’ve been asked to do. A while back, I mentioned good things on the horizon. And they are. The only way for me to enjoy what I do is to do things for myself. And I will. For a while, it’s just been talk. My brother and I messing around; drawing pictures and taking notes on napkins. Making lists of atmospheres we enjoy and would make us want to return to an establishment. Today, however, it became real for me. I’ve made a promise to myself that I intend to keep. Within the next year or so, I’m going to leave this nine-to-five-office-of-the-damned-corporate-bullshit and go into business with my brother. We’re going to open a bar. At the moment we’re working on scouting locations and doing a bit of competitor research. Next, we’ll work on writing a solid business plan and seek out funding. We’ve got volunteer “research assistants” and the blessing and encouragement of friends and family. I’m scared to death and excited as hell. And there’s more. This summer will be the Summer of George, Part Deux. I’ve been asked by the new president of the theatre group to be the Publicity Chair. My brother is graduating in a month. My parents will celebrate their 35th wedding anniversary at the end of the summer. There are shows and baseball games and concerts and all sorts of fun to be had. All of this all at once. And I can’t wait to get started. 8:57 PM | allison | # | Tuesday, May 10 I found out this morning that the Company is adding another of the position I currently fill. You know. Because I don't have enough to do now, they want to make sure I have even less to fill my days. 11:21 AM | allison | # | Thursday, May 5 FAKE BONO IS COMING BACK AND THIS TIME I'M NOT GOING TO MISS HIM! I have been out of town the last two times Fake Bono and Fake The Edge were in town and I'm not going to let it happen again. I'm going down to Ballydoyle after to work and stake out a table. I'll be in very good spirits right in time for the show. I hope you'll join me. And pass this along to anyone else you know who would enjoy Fake Bono as much as I do. Friday, May 27 9:00 PM $5 cover Ballydoyle 5157 Main Street Downers Grove IL Update: I did miss him. I went and saw this instead and it totally wasn't worth it. Next time, choose Fake Bono. 3:39 PM | allison | # | I've never been able to remember my dreams. I know that I dream when I sleep because everyone does, I just didn't know what I was dreaming about. That has since changed. For the past two nights I've been having extremely vivid and unusual dreams. The night before last, I dreamt that I was shot. There was some sort of altercation, and I fell to the ground. The gunman, who looked eerily like Eric Stoltz circa Some Kind of Wonderful, aimed the gun at my companion. Seconds before firing, his aim changed and I got shot in my right thigh. There was a lot of blood. Last night, in my dream I had fallen in love with and married a guy that I grew up with (and I haven't seen since high school). We moved to Telluride where he was a ski instructor and I was wearing army green capri pants and was about eight months' pregnant. Also, I woke up with my eyes all crusty and my nose stuffed up, like I had been crying. But I don't remember crying or what it was about. What the hell is my brain trying to tell me? 11:47 AM | allison | # | |
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