Work Work Work Work

This weekend has been a rough one. From Friday to Saturday, I worked 17 out of 26 hours. Since I’m a bar tender, it was worth the tips. Oh my god was it worth the tips.

Was it worth it physically or mentally? Nope, not at all.

I woke up with shooting pains in my abdomen on Friday morning, I thought that it was appendicitis. That might just be the baby hypochondriac in me but my god did it hurt. It woke me up, in fact. These pains dulled down a bit but were still hanging around when I moved certain ways or carried heavy things. At the end of my first 11 hour shift at the bar, I was crying to one of my customers Christopher. He ended up being the nicest guy and he told me that no matter what happened I needed to take care of myself first. My body and my health and me came before work and every thing else. He also told me that if he came into the bar the next day and I was working, still in pain, he was going to yell at me and take me to the hospital.

This was exactly what I needed. I’m very stubborn and I hate letting people down and I respect what doctors do but my god do I hate hospitals.

From this very dramatic conversation I learned something, I need to take better care of myself. I need to put myself first sometimes instead of doing everything for everyone else. I need to feed and water and exercise my body like I love it, because I do. So here’s to you body, here’s to you and here’s to taking care of you forever and always.



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