My job site, for now.
oh I hope this doesn’t affect your income!
Sigh. It will. He’ll be put on worker’s comp, which will cut down his income a bit, plus he can’t do the extra work he’s been doing and on top of that I can’t work because Alex can’t do a whole lot by himself.
For those wondering, Alex was asked to do something during work which he hasn’t done in over a decade (jumping off a 7 foot stand onto the teeter board) and he managed to rip his calf muscle doing that. According to an orthopedic doctor, it means at least 8 weeks off work, which is a freaking long time if you’re a professional athlete.
Yeah, fun times. I try not to believe in bad luck or bad omens, but it really seems like odd leg injuries are the go-to injury at the moment - a horse fell and will be off work for three months, my puppy fell off the bed and limped horribly for a few days, a teenaged girl from Matvey’s school dislocated her knee dancing around … this shit better pass by quickly.
Place of work this week.
So, um. I’m working concessions again this week. Twelve shows. FML. I’ll do a photo stand though instead of a food table, so it should be easier. The manager asked me and he’s cute and I’m a sucker.
Picture is unrelated.
We’re going on 14 hours in a moving train with twelve more to go and I’ve rediscovered I can’t sleep in a rattling, squeaking, shaking, occasionally violently jerking tin can. Fun times at the circus.
This must be the most boring ‘blog’ on all of tumblr. Nothing but puppy shots and blurry self-portraits with whiny ramblings underneath.
The last two weeks are a sleepy smudge of circus music, hurried changes in the bathroom, sneaked bites of food behind the stand while keeping an eye out of the boss, hands sticky with snow cone syrup and long, cramped bus rides.
Yesterday’s train ride from Orlando to Jacksonville was my day off, my one day of rest, but as it turns out, I haven’t learned to sleep in a moving train despite having been one of many, many times, and I ended up sleeping all of five hours and the rest of the time sitting in my noise-cancelling head phones to tune out the rattles and squeaks of the train. I wasn’t even listening to music.
Before one of you suggests ear plugs - can’t wear them, the sound of my own blood drives me nuts.
Oh well, tomorrow it’s back to work. The urge to take up smoking full time is strong.
Ok, I’m starting to make money. This might not be so bad. I don’t mind the selling part and I freaking love inventory (i probably should just go ahead and become a bookkeeper). What I hate is packing away and locking up the shit every night, but Alex helps with that so it’s not all that bad either. I can do this.
