“you having a bad week bri?” hilary peers over the glass partition between me and reality “me? a bad week? how can it be a bad week when it’s only monday?”
but the truth is it’s usually not a great week here for me when my life is how it is their lives are how they are
kayla had her baby before christmas haven’t seen sam in forever jennifer still doesn’t like dressings or sauces but she doesn’t call in her usual every day anymore
still getting calls every morning what’s the soup special? barb drinks the same cappuccinos as always still can’t see properly but she’s still trying jim and dorothy like it when i make their sandwich because they say i’m the only one who gets the chips right nicadamus just didn’t show up one day and nobody quite knows where he went
now mckenna walks around the counter and puts his arms around me because i’m his girl and him? he’s my whole world
i bring mint brownies to the brewery for the older couple i smile when children smear their grubby fingers across the bake case that was just cleaned and pretend it doesn’t bother me to fish uneaten coleslaw shards out of the drain
ray passed away in july and nobody told me because they thought i knew last week i find out rita has gone on too and the feeling in my stomach sinks into relief that she’s not without him anymore
susan stops by sometimes for lunch on her way to see janice who is now in the nursing home for good and it’s better for her but she doesn’t understand
the same faces come through but a little tickle in the back of my brain tells me some of them haven’t been in i can’t help myself from hoping they’re all okay
new faces appear i tell myself not to get attached to them but after weeks of making the same items over and over just the way they want it gets hard not to see others as an extension of my routine
the world is spinning at an alarming rate my heart is still running at a declined pace
“well, breezer between me and you” maureen says (she calls me breezer and i call her a salve to my cold 7am soul) “i don’t blame you you can’t stay here forever and it’s a hard job i couldn’t do it”
my mother tells me i’m not going anywhere maureen tells me there are better things out there for me
and i tell myself i can steep fulfillment into complete strangers’ cups of tea
what i was saying to hilary was that past a certain age nobody tells you you’re doing a good job “we do in my office” she says with a who-hurt-you expression
maybe in offices it works that way but maybe i couldn’t force myself into a plate glass cage where telephones never stop ringing and “coffee” comes out of a k-cup
indecision grinds its teeth and i find myself clapping my hands over the register and saying
“you’re doing your best! you got this, c’mon let’s get some espresso in you and you’ll feel better you can do anything even get through today”
when i look in the mirror i hear myself screaming that all i have to do is get through today words echo through my brain that i will get through this that i am smart and beautiful and change begins by knowing i am worthy of better things
but i also realize it’s easier to drown out the doubt when you hear it from someone else so whoever and wherever you are if you need this affirmation, take it pass it on, even