Heather L. Barmore
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Heather L. Barmore
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Heather Barmore
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    Change In Action at Babble Voices



    Subtitled: My Second Drunk Post

    • Why am I drunk at 11:59 PM?
    • Why does IndeBleu make delicious drinks?
    • Why do I make friends with people that work at IndeBleu?
    • Why do I drink so any Ceaser's Melons?
    • Why do I quote Ceaser when I'm drunk?
    • Why is there track work between Judiciary Square and Rhode Island Avenue?
    • Why does it take so fucking long to get home from Foggy Bottom?
    • Why don't I take cabs? (wait easy answer to that one, because cabs in DC are retarted)
    • Why do I have to babysit tomorrow night?
    • Why am I drunk again?
    • Why am I infatuated with my best friend?
    • Why am I infatuated with my roommate? (wait, see IndeBleu)
    • Why am I soaking wet right now?
    • Why is there a Tammy?
    • Hell, why is there a Katrina and Rita for that matter?
    • Why are my Stuart Weitzman ballet flats soaking wet?
    • Why does it seem like the McDonalds in union station is the slowest place ever?
    • Why does George Steinbrenner pay so much for pitchers who can't pitch?
    • Why am I covered in mosquito bites?
    • Why are my mother and brother in Martha's Vineyard right now?
    • Why am I drunk? again?

    It's Complicated

    "Today, if you are not confused, you are just not thinking clearly."-U. Peter

    Selective hearing has always been a problem. I could hear something 45 times and still ask you what you've just said. Unless you spell it out for me and walk me through it, I just won't comprehend it. Math and Spanish were the worst. I never paid attention and when I tried and finally was able to understand something, by taking copious notes, suddenly things change and not only do you have to find the value of X, but now you must find the value of X and Y. And my personal favorite, find the subjunctive form of the verb "Haber" never mind that I can't even use it in a present tense. But alas there is a God, and if I am forced to use something, I can master it; which explains my Spanish fluency and that I can find the degree of an angle with the Pythagorean Theorem.

    After multiple (I don't know how better to emphasize the number of times this occurred) times of getting C's in both Spanish and Math, you would think that I would learn to listen better and to take better notes and just pay attention. Oh, but no. Just No. I could never sit and pay attention and not contemplate how great that shirt at Anthropologie would be with the new pants from Gap or not contemplate where to go grocery shopping this weekend (Trader Joe's or Wegman's). In a meeting- a fast paced (if you're not paying attention your boss will be stuck in east bumble fuck Montana for eight years) meeting, I should pay attention and look out for these things, but I don't. Instead I ask the person next to me (thank God for her) what I've just missed. Ahhhhh just like college.

    I've made things complicated for myself. Not paying attention, begets, not knowing what is going on, which begets Heather B. walking around confused half the damn time. I'm sitting here now looking at 14 different pieces of paper, attempting to piece together what exactly will be going on for the next few weeks, I'm stumped. This is complicated shit, when perhaps it shouldn't be. As in, if I had paid attention to the changes when they happened the first time (and the 48 subsequent changes-keep up!) I would know just what's going on. It was fine for awhile, I had been proactive and figured things out, but then they changed on me and I just can't keep up. I've made it complicated for myself once again. And what I really need to do is sit down with someone and just ask. Such a simple, thing, but then we get into a "But I don't want to ask because I don't want to look dumb". When in reality, I should just ask because if you don't ever ask*, you never will know.

    A vicious cycle you see. But you know, it's just complicated.

    *For the record I admitted my ineptness and confusion. Things changed and there are wonderful people in the world that will sit down with me so that I'm not confused anymore. Maybe it's not that complicated.

    Closing Doors

    You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith. ~Mary Manin Morrissey

    I've been fired once before. During the fall of my senior year of high school while working at the Beverwyck; an assisted living type place, with a fine dining restaurant. Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, I was a waitress once, and I will be damned if I ever do it again, but I digress. Many of my friends worked there including my Junior prom date Tim. My boss was Mary. A bottle blonde woman with crossed eyes and thick glasses. Mary was a bitch and I vehemently abhorred her, but I went to work, including holidays. One evening, I had finished my 'side work' and a friend of mine said that she would give me a ride home, so I, along with several others, left. The next day I receive a message, from crazy eyed Mary, saying that I need not come in that day, or ever again, because I had been fired and to return my uniform immediately. Alrighty then; I contemplated calling and saying such things as "what the fuck you crazy eyed bitch…??!?" But stopped myself and said fuck it. I'd be more than happy to return my uniform and get out of there. Case in point-unhappiness and rude senior citizens begets ecstasy upon being fired.

    The one job I have been fired from, I despised and wasn't a job I just had to have. And yes I suppose I deserved to be fired, I did leave early because I thought I was finished, so clearly a misunderstanding. I still always-I'm talking every 30 seconds-thinking that every time I fuck up that I'll be fired.

    Which is also why now, whenever someone calls me into their office and then says "Close the door" my heart speeds up. My jaw clenches. The tears (and who said I wasn't a public crier) start to well up. I get anxious and my empty bank account flashes before my eyes. Even when I know that I have done nothing wrong, it's my first thought. I constantly feel like I'm fucking up. Like I'm not doing something right and that very soon, I will be berated and/or fired for doing terrible things. Mind you, all of the "terrible" things I've done thus far, haven't even been a result of my actions, it's a result of others not able to comprehend simple things like "If you put diet coke in that car one more time, after I've told you seven other times not to, I will personally drop kick your ass."

    Today was another closed door meeting, not even about something I did wrong, it was more about something I may or may not be getting, but let's hope will be getting because OH MY GOD how will I go to IndeBleu or Nordstrom again without it.

    I need to relax. I need to learn how to adjust, because so far this adjustment process isn't going very well. I clearly need to stop being a neurotic freak.