The Piece of the Pie

I do not do well with uniforms, so I've learned. The realization that putting together an outfit all on my own, with my innovative and artsy mind to help, is what lifts up my mood and helps create a world full of ideas and inspiration to reign in.

One of my first posts on Plum Tree http://plummtree.blogspot.com/2016/08/i-remember.html had to do with a job of mine that I soon discovered I did not like, mainly becasue it was not a fit for me in the slightest. Some days, I find myself reflecting on this particluar time in my life, this season and job where finding what I needed to thrive was somewhere in the dark, and needed to be found and revitalized again. This job, among many customer service type jobs had a uniform- it's own particular and strict uniform guidelines, in order to look and play the part. It's true, I was playing a role, all the while not feeling like myself in the process, yet felt like how all eyes percieved me to be.

My creative, self expression was out the door, and I had to literally leave it there once I came into this noisy, intimadating and unsure environment that I called work. Day in and day out, my mind and attitude about this place began to spiral, not to mention my well- being and confidence. The connection that I wanted to create with this small stucture of a place, it's inviting demeanor and sense of hospitality left a different impression than ever before, since I was slowly but swiftly discovering what it's like to be behind the scenes, to play the part and get paid to act it for those 6 hours, and to see the outside world taking it all in, appreciating every motion, smell and tired smile.

Seeing all of my clothes, accesories and everything that could make me feel more alive, just as simple as wearing my own clothes while not working, felt like a breath of fresh air. I no longer felt like a number, an identical among the coworkers, but like my good ol' self again. Once I decided to leave this job, there was no turning back. I began to heal the things that made me feel like not enough or underestimated. These toxic thoughts affected me, yet they soon began to disappear as my wardrobe was in use again, and no longer having to rush off to a crowded, noisy place, wondering if I'll remember how to pin this, and tuck in that and say the right things and not forgetting to smile at the exact moments. Flexibility is a quality of mine, but it didn't serve me much use in this environment where unpredicability is the name of the game.

Art, stlye, fashion, these all give me the inspiration I need to pull through the day, and to discover a side of myself that I was unaware of. Last night, I helped pick out my sister's clothes for her workday. the next day. These random, and ordinary times where I like and decide to help her out and find options- perhaps some that were new and never seen or discovered before and make it look like a whole new creation, just by shopping in her closet. Mixing and matching, and finding the right patterns, colors and textures all make me feel and be inspired. I find that it's a little different when you do this for someone else than yourself, since it's more like an act of charity, and making it easier for them, such as my sister who doesn't always enjoy the process of finding a new outfit for the next day.

I've learned and expereinced how it is to not have the piece of pie, and how much different it can make with that extra piece in the picture. I didn't realize how important this slice was until it was taken away. Hello 100% pie, hello inspiration!

I remember

Do you ever have your mind go back to a year ago? I think mine draws more to the past rather than the future. My memory somehow remembers all the little details from the days of yesteryear. When I think of a year ago, I instintly get pulled back into my old job. All the memories flood back into my mind, like a strong river that twists and churns and flows, creating a wet land for all the fish and people trying to walk in it. Time can make things less painful and almost more enjoyable to look back on compared to the recent past.

Now I may have scared you, since I mentioned painful. But isn't it true that pain can have a negative feeling with it as well as a postive one, in retrospect? My old job did both for me, and I must say that I am grateful for the experience.  A job that can give you stress, pressure, and anxiety is never a good thing, yet you learn what to do and how to cope with it in the end.

As a creative person, I need inspiration in my life, I breathe it, and without it I wilt. This job didn't have an ounce of that, and I could see that pretty qucikly, working there day in and day out. I must say uniforms are not my cup of tea, especially the kind that is from head to toe. Talk about no creativity! Personal space is huge for me. Again, this job didn't cater to that either. I felt like I was a fish living in a fish bowl, with all my coworkers around me, not much room to maneover around. The customers inside could practically see everything, as well as the ones outside. I think I have some more sympathy for fish living in a fish tank.

But I think one of the worst things was the eternal awareness of time. Yes, time. Clocks, minutes, break times, moving fast never slow, and getting there on time as well as ready within a matter of minutes is something that always gave me extra sweat that I couldn't handle or for that matter wanted.
Name tag, check. Hat, check, Hair pins, check. Hair up and pulled back, check.   Apron, check. Shirt, check. Pants, check. Belt, check. Socks, high white socks that is, check. Large pin, check. Shoes, check. Make up natural, check. No big earrings or rings, or jewelery for that matter, check. Nails clipped short, check. No nail polish on nails, check. Smile, check.

Dreading to meet face to face with all my cowotkers and male bosses was something that gave my hert an extra beat. The encounter of doom happened right when I walked into the work environment and said goodbye to my comfort zone for the next 6 hours. Joy. Please God help me get through this day, this moment. St. Joan of Arc, Isidore, and Raymond, give me the courage and strength that I need for today. It always helped me, even though people could read fear in my eyes, my voice, and my actions. But I didn't care, I just pulled through.

I'll stop here for now, more to come soon. Thanks for reading!