I decided it was a good idea to stay up until 4 am so I could paint and do some writing…
Seeing as it was my “Friday” it seemed like a great…
Until my phone started ringing off the fuckin wall at 8:30 this morning..
And what was worse than that, it was work calling with an apparent emergency but on my Saturday I don’t give two fucks what kind of emergency work has because if I am not there and it doesn’t effect me, should I be expected to care? at either rate, I don’t care… I don’t care about that place that much as is… so as if one phone call wasn’t enough, I get a text message right after, and then another phone call… Like cooooome on man, give me a fuckin’ break, clearly I am still sleeping or not answering for a reason..
At this point I am awake, I am angry and a little curious as to what is going on.. So maybe I do care? But I am not prepared to make any attempt to help out,so I call back…
… And what I find out doesn’t really surprise me.. Last night a cook at the other restaurant the owners own decided it was his time to go, so he walked out on the spot and now they are down 2 cooks, the only two cooks they have.
Now, I was fearing what was about to come out of the mouth of the man who woke me from my slumber, but before he could speak I cut him off and told him I would call him back as I had to use the restroom, well that was a lie, I just went back to bed..
Now I am more angry because I knew he was going to ask me to work today and really who cares, money is money.. I get that but I have a list the size of my arm of errands and chores to do and aside from letting me leave for fly out shows they don’t do much to help me out and I find I spend more time being pissed off at the way that place is run and the inability of some the staff.. So really I have no drive to do anything other than the minimum.. And I am ok with that…
Finally I grow a set and call back and just as I had thought I am asked to work.. at this point all I am thinking about is making money so I can get the fuck outta here in June (more deets to come) so I cave and agree to work.. On some conditions, I start at three and end at six.To my surprise he agree’s to this so that was that..
Bitter as all hell I decide I need some physical activity to get my head in the right place so I decide to walk across the street to the local public swimming pool to swim laps for an hour.. Well do you think that was about to happen.. NO. I get to the pool all gung ho and actually a little excited to swim, and the god damn pool is littered with school children..
Now why on gods green earth is there un supervised kids taking over the pool like it is world war 1… Its 10 am on a Monday morning.. It is May and school is still in session.. This I am certain of..
I stand around contemplating how badly I want to swim and I come to the realization that I will loose my mind if I have to listen to these twerps yell “Marco Polo” not to mention the murderous screams after being pelted with a foam pool noodle… As if it hurts that much.. It aint no leather belt over their bare ass.. Not that I know what that feels like, but I have taken some pool noodles before.. If I remember correctly you can’t even hit some one hard enough to even make a sound… Maybe I am wrong though. At either rate I am reluctant to hang around these over dramatic 8 year olds and decide it is in my best interest to go home and watch TV and not leave the house until I absolutely have to…
And I do…
Soo needless to say, I am slightly sour today..
I woke up on the wrong side of the bed.. Rather I was woken up on the wrong side of the bed..
This boy doesn’t like being woken up.. Unless it is by a cute girl who wants to kiss him…
So I carry on with my day, I watched a great episode of CSI:Miami followed by some show on birth.. Oddly enough I had a conversation with a friend last night on this very topic.
The idea of having a child is weird to me.. Not raising a kid or anything like that, I look forward to that one day but everything else that is involved in the process and why things happen the way they do..
The thought of having a human growing inside of you for 9 months is fucked.. Like.. Right fucked.. I know its natural and I have no doubt in my mind that it is a beautiful thing to experience with some one.. But my good god.. How one comes to decide they want that I will never know, I suppose it takes being a women to understand that..
And how does a sperm and an egg just do that.. How does 2 seemingly simple things create something so complex.. Why do get morning sickness? Why do you get the most bizarre cravings? It just doesn’t make sense to me..
I work with two girls who are both preggers and I constantly hound them with questions and I am consistently making fun of them because of the foods they ate, and how much they eat. I am not the smallest guy around and these girls are much smaller than me but I assure you they will eat more food in one day than I do in a week.. I am very intrigued by it all but fuuuuuuck me does it weird me out..
So with some rather disturbing thoughts and images in my head(from the television program) I get ready and leave for work and boy oh boy how I dreaded every second I got closer to that place.all I wanted to do today was get my chores done and play guitar and I couldn’t even do that..
I served my 3 hours (in that I did nothing at all.. I cooked the 3 or 4 bills that came in and that was it) and made it out alive… As I always do, I just like to bitch about it…

…I think I would give my left arm to be back on tour today…



10 thoughts on “…dismantleMe…

  1. Pregnancy is one of those things that had horrified me for years. For those very reasons. THERE IS SOMETHING GROWING INSIDE OF YOU, OHMYFUCKING WHAT THE FUCK?!!?
    But in the last year, my repulsion has lessened. I don’t even know why. It just sort of… faded.
    I think it’s biology. Surely it must be biology. I hate the idea of being a slave to the biological clock, but apparently even I -the girl who used to spin in circles quoting the time at every minute interval- am a slave to my biological make up. I actually (seriously can’t believe I am admitting this) am no longer repulsed by the whole baby-as-a-parasite thing and actually WANT to one day procreate. The idea sort of thrills now. What the fuck, indeed.

    Moving? Outta Vancouver? In June? What? Really? Where to?
    Also, I hate getting called in. I don’t work a job where they can do that to me any more, but fuck. When I did, a piece of my soul died every time. I feel for you, bro.

    • omg you are growing up… what is happening to you hahaha..
      i have no plans of moving forever.. i wont speak of june yet, i dont want to jinx it..

  2. I’m sorry you had a bad day and the asshats at work called you in but fuck me I was giggling through this entire post. I’ve had my share of pool expeditions with one too many 8 yr olds. Do you find yourself imagining yourself pushing them into the water?? No? Just me? Shit…forget I said anything. Thanks for the laugh….sorry again for your craptastic day.

  3. I agree with Jaclyn. Hey Jac, maybe it’s just the fact that we’re growing up and accepting children and all that crap that “adults” said would happen years ago when we were younger. Who knows, but each year the idea weirds me out less and less and I find babies cuter and cuter, which is frightening!!!!!!!

    And good on ya Dustin for actually answering your phone and then calling back…when I see work calling on my day off I hit ignore every single time…it’s gonna bite me in the ass one day I’m sure….but you’re right, money is money.

    • Haha, yes. We’re all growed up now, Robin.
      The funny part is that I don’t actually find *other* people’s babies cute, and I certainly don’t ever really want to spend time looking at or holding them. I just wouldn’t mind having my own. Bizarre.

      • wtf is wrong with holding other peoples kids? you can hand them back and walk away when they shit them self hahaha

  4. Ok that cracked me the fuck up dude! I’m assuming you work in hospitality too, as a cook/ chef? I’m a chef so I totally empathize with you, even on the “my Saturday” etc. I work every weekend night shifts etc, so “my Saturday” tends to be a Sunday or Monday. And getting called in on days off, and I’m the sous chef in my restaurant and the only person who can do the head chef’s job so if she’s sick or on holidays, guess who gets to fill in! Yeah huh. Lol.

    Pregnancy… eh… ok so maybe this is because I’m still young but tiny humans on the whole kinda weird me out. I find they like to stare at me and you can’t yell at a baby that’s staring at you because it’s rude but like… you’re staring at ME… THAT’s rude. If I’m thinking about having my own little dude/ dudette some day I seem to bypass the whole pregnancy and *shudders* birth thing and just skip to having this little person that I can corrupt with my sense of style and music etc. I mean sure, being pregnant gives you the excuse of saying “hey look at me I can eat whatever I want now!” and “no I’m not FAT, I’m incubating” but still. Something coming out of your… *glances at crotch* Mayyyyybe not =\ Though gotta say, the baby making process could be enough to persuade me bahahaha.

    I think I’ll settle for being like an aunty or something for a while because you can give said screaming, crying, puking child back at the end of the day hahaha.

    Xx Mon

    • when i am home i cook yes.. i am over worked and under paid and i would rather be back on tour and not cooking.. thats a part of me that is over.. or at least i feel as though it should be..
      and yeah the baby making process could be enough to persuade most… i would hope.

  5. who’s the friend, hahaha jk jk….I know her well.

    Childbirth is whack, but if pretty much every single woman who ever lived did it, I’m sure we’ll all be fine. Aahaha the swimming thing cracked me up, it was probs a fieldtrip…. god damn fieldtrips.

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