Sunday, July 18, 2010

Am I the problem?

I don't drink alcohol. It isn't some religious extremist declaration or anything. I don't like the smell of it, I don't like the taste of it, and most importantly my system doesn't react well to it. And not in a that's-what-happens-when-you-drink-too-much way, smart asses. I get very ill from very small amounts. As in, less than half a glass small.

With that in mind, it should be no surprise that it is only on the rare occasion that I buy alcohol either. My fiance Eric, on the other hand, has a passion for the hops. His taste in brew is as eclectic and far reaching as pallet of the most passionate wine connoisseur. Or, like I am with steak. :)

While Eric is deployed, he doesn't get to drink at all. So when he is just about to come home, I like to make sure he has a little somethin' somethin' in his fridge. I stock him up on the diet Dr. Pepper, make sure the tank on the gas grill is full, and I buy at least a little of one of the beer's that he likes.

So I go to Target today. And, surprise surprise, they happen to have the beer I was looking for on their shelves! Bonus! So I go up to the register with my milk, bread, liquid plumber and the beer. The cashier looks at it and says "Is that alcohol?". I say yes it is. And I get momentarily excited because I think this is going to be a you-look-too-young-to-buy-liquor conversation. However, my mood quickly heads south when she says to me "Blue Law". I didn't understand what she said so I asked her to repeat it. Again, she says "Blue Law". I am standing there, clueless, and she apparently picked up on my confusion. She says to me "You must not be from North Carolina. It is against the law to sell alcohol to anyone before 2pm on Sundays." I was shocked. I am standing there with my mouth open, feeling like some derelict, raging alcoholic, who was trying to pull a fast one in defiance of some right-wing religious extremist North Carolina law. Trust me, that is exactly the look she was giving me, too. Poor little raging alcoholic. So addicted to the poison that she has to have it before 2pm on a Sunday. Tsk tsk tsk.

Of all the people in the world to make that mistake, it has to be me, right? The one freakin' person in this state who never drinks anything, never buys alcohol, and generally speaking really can't stand people who do, I am the one who gets busted, and subsequently denied, trying to buy it.

What's worse is I actually FELT embarrassed and ashamed! Then I was pissed off at myself for feeling like that! I don't have anything to be ashamed about! All I wanted to do was buy something special for my fiance who is coming back from the war and deserves to have it waiting for him when he gets home! Am I wrong, here? Is it just me who feels like the fact that a law like that even exists is just effin' stupid?

Try this one, North Carolina (and any other effin' state that has the same kind of stupid law), if a person wants to drink themselves to death before 2pm on a Sunday, it ain't up to you to save 'em. Let Darwin take care of their liver damaged sorry asses. But don't tell me when I can and can't buy alcohol.

Monday, July 12, 2010

The Dream of Independence

For my entire life I have worked. I have worked FOR someone since I was 12 years old. Forever dependent on someone else to pay my salary so that I can live in the lifestyle to which I have become accustomed. And love my life, I do.

I grew up with a father who was determined to be his own boss. As someone who worked for him, I saw the struggles which never seemed to end. I did the bookkeeping for his plastics/decorating business starting when I was, as I said earlier, 12 years old. Even at that young age, I had a grasp on how hard it was for him to make ends meet. His business was a tough one. His product didn't sell itself by any stretch of the imagination. It was a constant struggle for sales. Cold calls, long hours, zero benefit. As a result, I always swore I would never go into business for myself. I knew very early on that I was NOT a salesman. I knew that I could never work at a job that was straight commission. Hell, I didn't even want to work in a job that was PART commission. I have a fear of being without a paycheck. As such, I had sort of resigned myself to the fact that I was going to have to be someone else's bitch for the rest of my life. Good enough. Or was it?

The older I get, the more I realize that working FOR someone sucks. A lot. I have always been independent, and I resent the fact that I am dependent on someone else for my money.

A couple of years ago I made a decision that once I am out of the military I will never work for anyone again. I (we) will own our own business, be it a franchise or something else. It has changed my perspective. Sometimes, when I am having a lousy day at work, and I think about throwing in the military towel, I remember my promise to myself never to work for anyone again. It makes me smile, but it also keeps me grounded. I can't just leave the military because I can't afford to (resentment enters here). I will not do it until I can fulfill the promise to myself to never work for someone else again. But it is going to take nine more years until I will be able to get out with a full retirement and benefits for the rest of my life. THEN, when I buy our franchise or whatever else it may be, and I fail miserably, I will still have a paycheck to fall back on. But I won't be dependent on someone else. Ever again.