On the Humble

Because I have JB in my ear it causes me to calm down a bit.

When he asked me if I embraced struggle to make a better story it threw me to the left. I felt like he was mocking me at first because I feel that I have no other options other than the ones I am taking right now. Nothing else will satisfy me. Anything else would be giving up? This is my chance to see what I can do and I am up for the challenge.

Sure, I am sure my story may seem fantastical at times, but I guess it’s because to me…life is a fantasy. I have always wanted to live my dream and now I am.

“I can’t wait to be who I imagine myself to be,” I told JB one night.

“But you are who you imagine yourself to be,” he challenged me.

“No, I’m not. Not yet. I’m not even close.” I replied.

“But the road you imagined that you would have to take to get there– guess what? You’re on it. Your imagination is leading your life.”

“Well damn…I need to imagine that everything from now on moves quickly and in my favor. I imagine nothing but happy days and plenty of money to live just as nice as I know I should live.”

He laughed at me. He’s always laughing at me.

I’ll admit, I can get a bit wild when I want to. My past frustration with men spills over into my everyday life and yeah…JB gets the brunt of my frustration since he’s the last man standing.

We went through this period where we were always arguing over dumb stuff. And then we’ll both be like, “What are we doing? We both have too much going on to be going through this shit.”

Then we’d calm down and be friends again.

The other night I was going off about something and when I paused he said, “Why are you acting like an ass tonight?”

~gulp~

I love it when he talks like that. Oh yeah. Check me, baby! Put me in CHECK!

“Do you want to start a fight with me so we can hang up?” he asked, his tone a perfect contrast to my flagrant words.

~rolling my eyes~

sigh…

I just wanna choke him and ride.

Choke and ride.

Choke and ride.

Damn!

He frustrates me. My feet hurt…

I am so, so tired after work ya’ll. I’m off by 3pm everyday but by the last hour my feet are stinging and I can’t even fake a smile.

I love being there though…

I meet so many beautiful people.

So many beautiful people. I think all of the beautiful Black people in Houston come through this restuarant. The staff is great! So much fun. No drama (yet). Just everyone trying to pitch in to deliver a spectacular dining experience.

So far, I’ve been running food to the tables, acting as hostess, cleaning the bathrooms and making coffee. I really love greeting people! I feel like such a superstar!

In my mind, in my own little head, I’m the baddest chick ever born. I’m that shining star! I’m that shining light! So whenever I leave the house, I make sure that I behave and dress accordingly. I really like to make people feel good and what brings a smile to a stranger’s face more than looking at a beautiful person?

How do you feel when you see a beautiful child?

That’s how I want people to feel when they see me. So everyday I do my makeup and have fun with my accessories. God gave me a great genetic make-up so I’m going to use my gift for Him, by making as many people smile as I can!

That’s how I really feel.

But this work is hard because it’s… ~whispering~ physical labor.

Ya’ll know I have never done anything like this before. I mean…once I worked at Bennigans but all I had to do was stand at the door and smile. Now, I’m lifting plates, cleaning toilets and carrying stuff. Sometimes when I’m sweeping the floor I have to laugh.

Dude.

You’re crazy.

But ofcourse my boys knew how to brighten my day.

“Guess what Sugarbear?” I asked my oldest son.

“What Mama?”

“I found a job.”

“Yay Mama! Where do you work?”

“At a restaurant.”

“WOW! Hey, listen! Mama’s working at a restaurant! Do they have good food Mama? What kind of food do they have?”

I told him.

“And guess what Sugarbear? Mommy’s going to be published in the newspaper again. Like last time.”

“Will your picture be in the paper Mama?”

“Maybe baby. Hopefully. I’ll send you one either way so you can see my name.”

“That’s cool Mama.”

“It is baby…”

It

Is

Cool

Baby…