I've been out of work for 2 weeks now.
Not one phone call. Not one e-mail. No one has noticed that I'm not there.
I suppose in a way that means I've done my job of training and preparation correctly. It's a little depressing, though.
Actually, I take that back. Three separate managers called to make sure I went & got fingerprinted. At the front desk, we're now becoming more involved in the player's club program, so we're now required to have gaming sheriff cards. I've had both the gaming & non-gaming sheriff's cards in the past, the whole process is a pain in the ass, and it's expensive, too. At least the hotel's fronting the initial fee for the card, but any renewals are on us.
It's just weird to have almost absolutely nothing I have
to do. Eat when I'm hungry, sleep when I'm tired, sit around & rub my poor mutilated stomach.
As a 'woman of size' (lol), one would think that stretch marks wouldn't bother me. I'm fat, I have them, and the ones I have aren't really that noticeable - being pale has that advantage. I've had 'em on my boobs since they first magically appeared overnight back when I was 11. But huge fucking stretch marks because of gas and bloating seems a little unfair. The gas & bloating will eventually fade, but stretch marks are around forever. They itch, too. My belly button seems to have stopped its Niagara Falls impression, which is a major relief. If I ever have to have laparoscopic surgery again, I'm going to request a no-belly-button approach. My belly-button hasn't ever done anything to me, and I don't think it deserved or appreciated this kind of treatment.
I've felt ok for the past 2 days, other than the huge stomach thing. My stomach, which hasn't ever been this big, has become an intrusive object in my life. It gets in the way of everything. It reaches out & touches everything. It makes it hard to get close to the sink for dish-washing, and trying to cut up peppers for dinner last night was ridiculous. I am constantly aware of my belly. I can't lay flat on my stomach right now, which is to be expected, and I'm not a back-sleeper, but trying to lay on my sides means having to physically move it around. The majority of actual physical pain is pretty much gone, but there's continual pressure in weird places that becomes
physically painful. The pressure has my solar plexus over-stimulated, so I've been getting anxious for no real reason, so before I went to sleep last night I just laid there awhile & massaged my tummy and said soothing things to it.
It did feel satisfying to clean out the underwear drawer this morning, though :D
Rob's mom has been driving us nuts. She knows I'm not working right now, which she seems to feel has given her carte blanche to call like, five times a day, starting at about 9am. She was hollering into the answering machine about some yard sale this morning. I was already awake due to a self-induced charlie horse, and I was trying to fall back asleep. I didn't race to the phone or anything, but it ruined any plans I had of drifting into dreamlessland. After the surgery, I pretty much lost my voice, and it's finally starting to come back, and I'm not about to waste it on her. I get these pitch and volume changes that make me sound like a goose when I talk. Just random honking peppered through my conversations.
I visit Joey Comeau's
(noted author & of asw fame) from time to time. He reviews horror movies & stuff. There's not much to it right now, but I love it. It's on blogspot, and at the top of the blogspot banner is an arrow for 'Next Blog'. Since I've got time on my hands, I've been exploring, and that Next Blog button is like candy for me. It seems to string blogs together based on a theme. Yesterday, it was a long string of Christian-based blogs. There was a parenting stream, a random photo blog stream, a bunch of horror movie reviewers, which at least kept up w/Joey Comeau's, and a fairly amusing collection of death metal fan blogs... today's selection was pretty random. All these blog streams usually take me into foreign territory - non-English blogs.
Now, I know the world is bigger than America. It's part of why I love the Internet so much. I can't afford to travel, and even if I could I probably wouldn't. I have this thing about safe, hot, running water and little or no inconvenience. Going to another country means encountering strange hygiene practices. There are places where people spit all the time. Other places where people poop in alleys and gutters. Not everywhere has abundant water for hand-washing, and just because they do have water doesn't necessarily mean they bathe with any regularity. Bedbugs and lice are somehow culturally acceptable in some places. Yes, we have dirty smelly unhygienic people in America, but we have the illusion that they don't touch anything clean people touch because for the most part, if you are offensive to the senses, you will be asked to leave. Yes, I know, all the antibacterial craze is basically like believing in Santa Claus & the Easter Bunny, and I avoid most anti-bacterial products unless a product I already use becomes anti-bacterial and I don't want to give that product up (it's kind of funny - Palmolive has a nice orange-scented dish soap that became anti-bacterial. Ajax had an anti-bacterial orange-scented dish soap that became un-anti-bacterial... I buy which ever one the grocery store has on the shelf because I love orange oil...), but just the thought that there is clean water and soap available in any public restroom here (unless you're at a gas station) (or the Double Down Saloon, in which case may the Gods have mercy on your soul) is reassuring to me.
The Internet allows me to take vicarious tours of other countries. Ran across a beautiful photo blog of Sri Lanka. Looks absolutely gorgeous, lush tropical plants, rustic farms, nice architecture, the works. That particular one was in English. Most of the time, I run across blogs & sites in other languages. Suddenly I am disconnected from that person's world. What are those buildings? What are those people doing? Where is that? Some times the actions or places are obvious. A building full of books is probably a library, but it might be a book store. Can't ever really be sure unless the photo shows more detail. People in robes might indicate a religious ceremony - or a play... or it could be how those folks dress 'over there', wherever 'there' is. I can read & comprehend a little Spanish, so I do ok w/Mexican or South American blogs. Usually, if it's a European blog, I can make out what or where it is, but if it's Asian, forget it. Especially when the writing looks like a series of spirals, loops & hooks. Africa definitely challenges the perceptions I have about myself, because, well, if it's not South Africa
... it all looks alike to me. And I don't even connect Morocco or Egypt to the rest of Africa. On the world map in my head, all major African landmarks, cities, wildlife refuges, and everything else that is not Egypt, Morocco, South Africa or Benin - is in Kenya. The Congo? In Kenya. Ivory Coast? In Kenya. Somalia? In Kenya. Victoria Falls? In Kenya. Every single Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom featuring Africa was filmed in Kenya. Benin used to be in Kenya, too, but then I started studying the African Diaspora, so Benin took on its own borders.
The thing about language, though... when a baby is born, it has the potential to speak any language. We can speak multiple languages if we try hard enough. Many countries teach other languages side-by-side with native ones. Here in the US, it's almost the opposite, forcing English on everyone and obliterating others. Other languages are electives in high school & college. Some people definitely have the knack for picking up new languages - my dad spoke about 7 fluently, and understood even more. When I was little, I could speak Spanish, but didn't use it for so long that it faded away. Now that I'm older, I can't relearn it beyond hotel-speak. Of all the different sci-fi technologies out there, the one I've always wanted the most has been things like babel fish and translator microbes. I don't think the entire planet should speak English. So much is lost when a language dies or is destroyed... but it would be a much different planet if growing up with a singular language didn't make it so hard to absorb new ones.