Strike the strike

Today I was in a town and stopped at the local grocery store for some vitamin water (my cocaine).

To my chagrin, I noticed a medium-sized gathering of people in front of both entrances. Even more chagrin-ier, I noticed signs around their necks. The most chagrin-iest, those signs said “STRIKE” (and other words that’s I didn’t read while driving by because I am a 100% safe driver who watches where she is going).

I sat in my car a few minutes, deciding whether or not I would face the humans awaiting me or if I would just go somewhere else for my coke.

LIGHTBULB.

Headphones, my dudes.

I slipped them in and headed out. The humans wearing signs still approached and tried to speak with me, but all I did was give an awkward wave, avoid eye contact, and carry on my way. I heard clips of “…consider shopping somewhere else?” requested of me, and then something regarding headphones shouted angrily in my direction.

I’m sorry, but yelling at an innocent shopper (who has anxiety!!) isn’t going to help your cause, sir. I’ll admit I wasn’t my usual confident self walking into that store, and that brought down my ability to function by, like, 20%. And I was already at at maybe a 50…

{quick note: needing to have social interactions at 30% functionability is really hard}

I asked one of the workers inside why they were striking, and was informed that they were striking for “pensions and wages”.

This is Stop and Shop. Get a job somewhere else if you want those benefits! You literally signed up for this. I never led a strike at Dunkin because they don’t give retirement plans🙄 and neither has my manager, who has worked for them for over twenty years.

You’re at the job willingly. If you want benefits that they don’t provide, get a job that does provide them. You not doing your job requires others to do your job on top of their own. That’s honestly so selfish.

Anyways, that’s my rant this evening.

Thanks for reading!

❤️MommaKate

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Coffee Shop Cutie

Let me tell you a story.

So I had a job interview today, and when I left I decided that if I got the job, then it would be a good idea to familiarize myself with a nice coffee shop in the area. I’m kiiiiiiinda big on coffee.

The location of the job is about 45min from my house, so I’ve decided that I should get a spot that I like to blog at for a few hours after my shift. A plus if the place has WiFi, good atmosphere, cute baristas, and c a f f e i n e.

So I left the location of the interview and looked at my GPS (I use Waze, which is a great navigating app) to see what kind of coffee shops were in the area. Dunkin, no thank you…Starbucks, well I like it but not really what I’m going for right now…and then a couple of independent coffee shops. I picked a random one and headed on my way, carefully navigating through what looked like the downtown-type area of the cute little place I was currently in. On the way, I noticed gas prices and grocery stores, as who knows what kind of errands I’ll need to do when I’m in town.

Finally, I pulled up to the shop. Definitely looked cute from what I could tell. The outside almost gave the appearance of an old-school diner, and I wasn’t sure that was what I was looking for at this time. I did a quick google of the place to see if I could figure out what the inside was like without actually entering the building… and voíla! The most unhelpful website ever. So I decided to just go inside and let the chips fall where they may.

And boy. What. A. Cute. Atmosphere! So homey and relaxing! I knew it was gonna be the place for me. I took a look at the menu to see what I wanted, and realized that I hadn’t had anything all day. I decided that I would just wait until home to actually eat food, and thought I would play on it safe with a regular coffee, but blanched when I didn’t actually see anything about “coffee” on the menu. I saw specialty drinks and espresso-based beverages, but nowhere did the menu say “hot/iced coffee”, and give me the price. I decided that instead of anxiously standing in front of the cashier and awkwardly staring at the menu that wouldn’t tell me what I wanted to know, I would simply ask the cashier.

“Do you guys have just regular hot coffee?”

“No.”

He just stared at me, and I at him, my mind turning in frustration as I used all of my observational skills to attempt to read his expression to determine whether he was joking or not. After what seems like hours (probably a mere five seconds), he broke the stare and appeased my terrified look to ask what size I wanted.

I breathed a sigh of relief: “The largest size you’ve got.”

“Large, okay. Dark roast?”

Somehow he’d read my mind about the roast I’d wanted. I acquiesced, and as he poured I realized how attractive this barista was.

“I realize how dumb of a question that was,” I floundered to say anything to sound less idiotic (probably ended up sounding stupider than ever), “but obviously I haven’t had my coffee yet.”

After that, I’m not sure exactly what the guy said to me besides the total for my coffee (which was cheap). I was lost in his beautiful eyes and floppy hair, and the sudden knowledge that he was pretty much my exact physical type definitely threw me off my game.

And I have no game.

So then I sat down, enjoyed my coffee (which was very hot due to the fact that I forgot to tell the also very hot barista that I wanted extra room for cream because he got me all tongue tied.), posted a blog post, and people-watched. I watched the customers come in and get greeted by name, and loved every minute of the energy surrounding the place. In all, 10/10, would return. In fact, I’m already planning on returning this Saturday with a friend of mine.

Floppy-haired barista boy, I sure hope you work Saturday mornings! (And whatever day I end up working in the area. It would suck to never see this guy again😂)

Thanks for reading!

❤️MommaKate

Coffee Level Heroine

This week ends my first job. It’s certainly bittersweet–I’ve made a lot of great memories there! But I’m more than ready to move on to bigger and better things than the home of the don’t…I mean donut. When I first started at the store, I used to work evenings. I would close the store with one other employee, and it would usually be pretty slow. This was where I had my first love, a coworker four years my senior. He was friendly, hot, and visited me at work when he wasn’t on the schedule. Unfortunately, he was fired after, like, 7 months? He had been repeatedly warned to not give things away for free, but continuously did it. Finally, my boss simply removed him from the schedule. At the time, he was on vacation in, Brazil or something? And my manager never told him he was fired… so my best friend and I called him in our church bathroom to tell him, and he didn’t believe us. It took a bit to convince him. And that phone call was the last we ever heard from him.

A few years into the job, I started working mornings. My boss loved my work ethic and ability to actually do the job (unlike other employees), and so she kept me on mostly mornings. Closing was now a thing of the past for me. I went off to college, and when I came home for breaks I still went back to mornings. I got to know the people of my town pretty well..at least the ones who came to my store. Most of them I knew by order and not by name. (“Ice Tea People”, Raspberry Mocha”, or “Butter Pecan Hottie”, for instance.) When I was out and about with my little brother and mom, I would often give out cries of “hey, he’s a regular at Dunkin!” and both of them would roll their eyes quite dramatically.

It was a good job, I’ll be honest. Flexible, constant, and a great manager. But I hate getting up early. I’m a night owl. Late nights are my bread and butter, folks! But I continued to work 5 or 6 am shifts for years… until this week. Tomorrow is my last day at Dunkin Donuts. And I can’t tell you how excited I am to be getting to work with kids! If you know me you know that as an adult I haven’t had any career goals. And I’ve loved kids my whole life, so this really is a dream come true. If I can make a career out of babysitting and nannying… I’ll be happier than a clam.

I have a potential job somewhere new. And so I decided I’d have to find a coffee shop nearby where I could be all hipster and write my blog. I’ll go to work, leave, get caffeinated, and then write for a few hours. The drive will be worth it for the beautiful children and the great coffee, and I’ll be able to write on a weekly basis! (But not about the kids, obviously) Getting into habits and schedules is going to be good for me. C’mon, adulthood. Hurry up and get into my head. Responsibilities await!

Thanks for reading!

❤️MommaKate

Bear One Another’s Burdens

For Matt.

Galatians 6:2 commands us to “bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ.” This is one of those commands from the Bible that Christians seem to neglect and overlook. Sure, “I’ll pray for you” is a pretty common phrase in Christian circles, but is that really bearing any burden? Something I hear so often is a word called “overshare”. And I don’t believe in it. You should never have to apologize to a friend for confiding in them about something personal in your life that you’re struggling with. You should never worry that you shared too much and they are uncomfortable with the knowledge they now bear about you. Because as Christians, that needs to be such a huge part of our fellowship. I believe that depression and anxiety are such huge factors in today’s society because no one trusts another person enough to be able to share with them details about their life. (There are, of course, many other factors when regarding depression and anxiety. I am not a doctor or licensed counselor, nor have I researched this. I am simply making an observation based on what I have seen and experienced.) Teenagers and young adults in this day and age are too afraid of “oversharing”, and thus never share at all.

We need to be the generation that changes that. Be the generation that bears the burdens of our friends and family. Be the generation that ends up making a difference… for generations to come.

This one is short and sweet, but full of heart. Thanks for reading!

❤️MommaKate

Him

I want him to be perfect.

But not perfect like you want to watch in the movies and drool over.

I want him to be raise-kids-with and eat-ice-cream-at-midnight-with and have-a-sword-fight-with-empty-paper-towel-rolls-with perfect.

I want to argue with him and tell him exactly why I loved the crooked smile he bestows upon my illogical conclusions. I want to sit in exasperation on the couch tucked in his embrace wishing for just a moment longer before I have to go to the job I hate. I want to tell him what a great dad he’ll be—and look, he’s already got the dad jokes and dad bod, and that’s okay. Because he doesn’t need a perfect Hollywood body to be perfect to me. I sure don’t have one of those.

I want to own my first house with him. Leaky toilets and stoves that catch on fire and rent we can’t pay despite the hours we work. I want to sit in despair under that leaky roof and laugh with only him as the rain comes down in torrents that we can’t stop, and then promise each other that this is forever.

I want to listen to his problems and heck, even BE one of his problems but I want to be his. I want to worry about him being home late and him driving his motorcycle that he won’t give up..not until the baby. I want to be his best friend. Not just for him to be my best friend.

I just want him to be mine, his perfectly imperfect self, with me the same. Our faults and flaws mingled with our strengths, acting as one entity. Communication and loyalty and hard work the epicenter of the relationship. Moving forward in life together, knowing that whatever comes our way we’ll be together and we’ll still have a sense of humor.

All I’ve ever wanted is a humdrum life…with someone to walk beside me and share it.

Raise me some humdrum kids who think their own thoughts and want something out of life—whether it’s huge goals of adventure, fame, and fortune.. or if it’s just another humdrum life like their mommy.

❤️MommaKate

Getting to Know Me

See how I capitalized the important words in the title? That’s what I was taught in English class growing up in a private Christian school.

Aside from using the English language properly (and creatively), I also love cats, Italian food, sarcasm, and my car. My hair is green, my weight is high, and my music taste varies from the 80s to modern punk rock. I’m a sucker for a good ol’ romcom, inspirational sports drama, or a psychological thriller. Or, you know, whatever else happens to catch my fancy. I’m very varied.

There are definitely things that I’ve liked for forever and I’ll never stop liking. Pasta, for instance. And money. But I change my tastes a lot kind of like how snakes have to shed their skin. It’s like I have a compulsive need to rearrange my ideology or my tastes every so often. Sometimes it’s just the layout of my room. Sometimes it’s how I feel about people or tattoos. Whatever it is, you can sure that I think through it a WHOLE heck of a lot before I make a decision based on any new ideology.

I’m really bad with money, which is probably why I love it. But “the love of money is indeed the root of all evil.” And being broke is evil.

That’s a Bible verse. King James Version. 1 Timothy 6:10. That’s something I grew up being banged into my brain every waking moment. And thank God it was! My life is based on a worldview–and everyone has a worldview. And my worldview is based on Jesus Christ and his sacrifice for the people of this earth. My personal relationship with him and my belief in his death and resurrection are an essential part of my being.. and the one thing in my life that is a constant.

I live at home with my parents and two younger siblings. I just dropped out of college, which is weird for me. I definitely thought I’d be married by the time I was done with college. Certainly not single. And certainly not a college drop-out. But I don’t regret what I did. Not for a single (lol) moment. I hated school. Not necessarily the institution, although the location did not help my anxiety, depression, and all-around bad blood towards edumacation. But it was academics that I hated. From elementary, there really were few things that I liked in school. It’s always been about the classmates and the teachers and the activities for me. And getting out of the house.

Speaking of the house, I love my family. They’re fantastic. My mom is super hard working, funny, and a great mom. But she’s my mom. And we don’t think alike. We fight, obviously, and it’s hard to see her side of things. I think a lot more like my dad. Or rather..like myself. REALLY illogical and strange. My mom and my older brother are both really analytical and logical people, and their brains are wired for science and math and medical stuff. Very left-brained. I am the most right-brained person you could ever meet. I even think about math in weird, funky ways just for it to make sense to me. It’s not an orderly, functioning process in my brain. Not really. My dad is one of my favorite human beings in the world. I love just hanging out with him. He’s super smart and knows so much about so many different random things. He’s great with technology, cars, wood-working, house-building, landscaping… I mean, he’s a perfect husband/father. He can do anything around the house! It’s crazy. Plus he’s so funny and can be so goofy sometimes. We make fun of him, but that’s my favorite “version” of him. I’ve got an older brother who’s graduating med school this year, a younger sister with special needs, and a baby brother who’s turning seventeen this year (YIKES). I’ve also got two sets of grandparents– pretty rad. My Grama is like my best friend. We talk about everything and I have just so many memories of her and her home and just being around her. She calls me “Petunia”.

Well anyways. I hope that covers just a little bit of getting to know me.

Thanks for reading!

❤️MommaKate

The Journey Begins

And an arduous journey it might be, folks. I’m here for a good time, not for a long time (and I hope you are too). There might be some pretty wacky conversations on here, but feel free to comment on whatever you want! And if there’s anything you want to have a full-out discussion about, email is still vaguely a thing and great for debates.

Thanks for visiting my blog!

❤️MommaKate