I’m sweating,
Regretting,
Breath is unsteady.

Nervous,
Worried,
Thoughts in a scurry.

But you’re ready,
You’ve prepared.
These thoughts
Need to be shared.

Pacing,
Back and forth.
Like wine,
Pop the cork.

I can’t do this,
I can’t do this,
Says fear in my ear.
You’re but a little girl
A scared little deer.

Shut up!
Don’t say that!
Say what?
That!

I’m ok
No you’re not
Yes I am
No you’re not.

Pacing and pacing,
Heart consistently racing.

Nerves
Fear
Worry
Doubt.

Frustration
Opportunity,
Trying to get out.

I walk into the restroom
And take a good look at you.
You’ve got this,
You’re a warrior,
Ready to strike .

But then fear grabs a hold of me
And wraps me in tight.

You can’t do this
You’re crazy
They’ll never say yes.
Oh you think that you’re confident
Because you bought that new dress.

You’re a fraud
A fake
A sheep in disguise.
You hide behind those fancy clothes
Covered in lies.

Shut up!
You’ve got this,
Grab hold of your strength.
Keep your confidence high
To a limitless length.

Now push your shoulders back
And lift your head high
Place one foot in front of the other
And let’s give this a try.

I leave the restroom
With my heels hitting the floor
I make a left turn
And knock on my bosses door.

“Did you have a moment to talk,
About my position?
I have a suggestion
If you have the time to listen”.

I swallow down my fear
As my boss motions me to sit
I close the door,
“This is it”!

If I could change one thing about my life, it would be my job.
I thought I was working in the right field, and now I don't feel the same.
Waking up is a drag.
There's no excitement.
The people working there hate it too.
And everyday we repeat, repeat, repeat.
Clock in, clock out, go to bed, wake up, and again.
I want to quit.
If my job didn't pay my bills I would be out of there in a heartbeat without looking back.
I want to be like one of those people who loves their job.
How is that even possible?
What does that feel like?
What does that taste like?
Are they lying?
Is it some mythological lie to keep us fools hopeful?
I need a change,
Something different.
Something sporadic.
Anything!
If I could change it all I would pursue acting.
If I could change it all, I would do that.
Wait...who says I can't change it?

© Copyright 2014 Desiree Sheppard

Tick tock, tick tock.
One more minute til I can clock in.
On goes the apron,
and my name badge pin.
Up goes my hair,
pony tail style,
perk up the cheeks,
for the fake prosthetic smile.
I clock in and walk,
small little talk.
Five more minutes til opening,
tick tock, tick tock.
I wipe off the tables,
open the blinds,
look outside,
and there's a small line.
Oh great,
here we go.
It's now twelve,
so let's start the show.
I say my little speech,
and give my little greet,
take down there orders,
and repeat, repeat, repeat.
Not even close,
to being done,
I have one table,
with a Mom and son.
Another with a man,
old,
newspaper in hand.
Both are polite,
funny and nice,
only request,
is a refill with ice.
The old man waves me down,
probably wants the check,
I have it in my grasp,
and make sure it's correct.
I hand it over,
he leans in closer,
and asks me about the lady
at table 480.
He says,
"has she paid for her bill"
I reply, "no not yet,"
"well then put it on my tab,
as a part of my check."
I stood there shocked,
mostly surprised,
cuz in my town,
no one does things of that kind.
His next request,
was to stay unknown,
as he said to me,
in a soft sincere tone.
I changed his total,
a smile cracked,
never met someone so nice,
he replied,
I'm just giving back
The lady with the son,
is now ready to go,
and when I tell her it's taken care of,
she moves really slow.
No longer in a hurry,
her eyes become blurry,
and in her purse,
she begins to scurry.
Looking for cash,
in disbelief,
and with a soft touch,
her arm I reach.
I say it's okay,
you don't have to pay,
someone took care of it,
for you today.
She begs me to tell,
and let her know who,
but I explain,
that's just something I couldn't do.
She understood,
with joy in her eyes,
and then the tears fell,
as she began to cry.
With her sons fingers,
tangled in hers,
they left me with a feeling,
I can't put in words.
I clean off the mans table,
grabbing an empty ranch dip.
I glance at the check,
and he left me thirty dollars tip.
This person,
giving generosity,
with the gratuity of their hand.
Doing it out of sincerity,
this gentle hearted man.
My day of repeat,
comes to a pause,
by the thoughts,
of this individuals cause.
My boss barks
"we just sat you two in the back,"
but this time,
my repeats,
don't seem as bad.

© Copyright 2013 Desiree Sheppard

I feel pretty today
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