On Saturdays, slavery and spiritual evolution

The proverbial Monday morning blues. I’ve got somethin’ that can top ’em

The first day of the weekend. Saturdays in conventional workweeks but for me Mondays since weekends are the busiest at the hotel and it’s full staff on. For convenience, I’ll use Saturday to convey the first day of the weekend, even though for me it’s technically Monday.

Saturdays are when I wake up feeling like I’ve been hit by a freight train … a bus … a semi-truck. In other words, a big fucking piece of industrial-sized moving metal!

Too, Saturdays are when I catch up on all the lost sleep from the workdays. Sleep sacrificed to the early-morning alarm clock. Sleep lost to shoulder and back pain and injuries. Sleep unattainable on a not-good mattress that comes in the rental room and a new foam mattress topper that’s hit and miss and unlikely to survive the cut.

Saturdays bring unfitful sleep above and beyond the workweek’s norm. Reason 1 is the body’s habituated to rising early and so awakens early even on the day off.

Reason 2 is house/roommates’ activity is in full swing in the early morn — an’ I hear it all!

Reason 3 is come Saturday, my body and mind awaken to the reality of the feats they’ve been pushed, prodded and pulled through to accomplish job responsibilities. And they are not happy campers!
I’ve got a job that’s age-inappropriate … which is to say that at 57, I’m doing a job of a 22-year-old. All physical. All about brawn and speed speeed speeeeeeeeeeeeeed, wheeeeeeee! Even at 22, I was the tortoise, not the hare! It’s unrealistic to expect me to perform at the same speed as the youngsters. Nonetheless, expected it is.

There’s also the all-important matter of shoulder and back injuries that slow and impede movements. Honestly, I deserve a medal just for my efforts and accomplishments despite real physical obstacles and pain. But what corporate service industry cares about its PEOPLE, really? It’s about numbers.

Anyhow, all told, come Saturdays, I feel like shit. It’s not unheard of me to sleep ’til noon — 5 hours past my workweek alarm. A significant indicator of just how fucking fatigued I am.


Fatigue of the adrenals and kidneys was revealed in yesterday’s jin shin jyutsu treatment — a modality that’s doing WONDERS in my recovery and healing!! As if I didn’t have enough on my plate with whacked-out liver and gall bladder and spleen and joints and bones! Welcome newcomers adrenals and kidneys!

It’s all connected, I realize. Anyways, central is the awareness that this hotel cleaning job has a short shelf life. The muscular development and toning associated with this physically demanding work have plateaued.

Advancing to Level II of muscle development/toning would require a commiserate ramping-up of activity and that ain’t gonna happen at this job, neither should it. I’m not aiming to make the cover of “Brawny Women.” No one wants to see me oiled up in a bikini flexing my muscles!!

There’s an arc to the positive effects of all this physical movement and output … and that arc is just about reached. Maximum results are achieved. It’s downhill from here.
Again, fatigue. For no good cause. Which can mean only one thing: the end of the job is nearing.

Or is it?

The inner slave and slave-driver don’t know when to stop. More importantly don’t know HOW to stop. Lifetimes, including this one, as a slave and a slave-driver impart the message: “PUSH THROUGH PAIN. YOUR SURVIVAL DEPENDS ON IT.

“You may die from overworking — in fact, chances are you will. No one could accuse you of being lazy! PUSH PUSH PUSH THROUGH THE PAIN. Then you die. Life over. Goals accomplished.”

Them’s some powerful lifetimes of hardships and brutalities and equally powerful messages I carry still to this day.

Until I don’t.

Saturdays. They top the Monday morning blues because that’s indeed the day when the body awakens to the realities that must be circumvented, ignored, denied, submerged under the demands of the job. Because if I let my body and mind truly feel and experience, they’d say what?

I know what they’d say. “What the fuck are you doing lifting mattresses by the corners with a seriously injured shoulder?!?

“What the hell are you doing crawling around on your knees scrubbing floors again?!? Haven’t you had enough?!? Enough lifetimes and enough jobs in THIS lifetime in menial service and in serving OTHERS, many of ’em authoritative assholes?!!

“Haven’t you got the message that you’re a writer, not a cleaner (though you love cleaning when it’s your own space!) Haven’t you got the message that you don’t have to do this anymore?!?

“You CAN wake up on Saturdays and enjoy them as they’re meant to be enjoyed: Leisurely. Awaking at a slow relaxed pace. Enjoying the sensations of a body rejuvenated by slumber and dreamtime. Lingering over a cuppa dark roast and a green smoothie and the newspaper. Taking your time saving the simple pleasures.”

Let go of this job so new and better can fill the space. Let go of slave jobs and enslavement so that your voice and light can shine!

And so that Saturdays can be special instead of the scene of a physical & mental train wreck!

That’s all on this your Tuesday, my Sunday. ūüôā


Solve the mystery, win the Maytag.

Some days are better than others in sleep and health.

And some days you just know are gonna be long. 

I didn’t sleep soundly (due to ongoing body/structural pain). Then I was awakened around the crack of dawn by a roommate extracting goods¬†from the garage, which borders my room, for his garage sale.¬†

So I feel unrested and off-kilter. And it ain’t even 8 a.m. yet!

Wouldn’t ya know it! Though I was scheduled to have today off, yesterday I volunteered to come in if there was staffing need. And there was. On my end, there’s $ need. And while a day’s work is equal to a tank of gas, it’s a tank of gas I wouldn’t have had otherwise.

My crippled shoulder and other related body issues/injuries get in the way of a job that’s entirely physical. I’m pushing past the pain, putting my body through its paces. It’s none too happy about it. I deserve a medal. However, I’d prob’ly be too tired to receive it!

Then, tonight I’ve got a shindig featuring wines from Paso Robles region in California. Everyone’s to bring a bottle from the area and appetizer. With reportedly 30-plus people attending, that’s a LOTTA wine and variety of eats. That’s¬†a late night. And a “toasty” night. ūüėȬ†

Except … except I gotta work tomorrow. When you’re a hotel housekeeper, especially during the busy season, you don’t get weekends off unless you’ve got a very good reason. So that definitely puts a¬†cork in the¬†fun.

Speaking of fun, it wasn’t yesterday, cleaning the handicapped-access room. My boss assigned me to a wing different from my usual and it included the handicapped-access room.

The two queen beds are laborious enough but the sizable¬†bathroom with the large wheelchair-access shower … ugh. ¬†It’s a slog. Felt like time stopped cleaning that room! Upon finishing and closing the door, I said I hope I never see or am in that room again! Really. I said it out loud. Fortunately there was no hotel guest present to overhear a justified bemoaning of the handicapped room.

Speaking of work, it’s that time to roll. Why is it that¬†an hour at the laptop with a smoothie fly by and the same hour at the job feels like two?! Ahhh, solve that mystery and you’ll win the Maytag.




5 Minutes! 5 Minutes I Won’t Forget.

I did something last night that I’ve been unable to do for months!

Well, sorta did.

I was able to sleep on my left side!!


I’ve alluded to serious health issues and written of injuries to my¬†left neck and shoulder sustained through bad mattresses (in rental rooms) and pillow combination. A long story begun about a year ago that I certainly won’t recount again here. Rather, I’ll only say again that the condition took a massive nosedive in November — eight months ago — and has only continued to worse, degrade and degenerate since.

Among the conditions is an inability to sleep on the left side (site of the initial injury) and shoulder. Searing pain is one word for it. Nerve impingement. Partial tear of the rotator cuff — most probably at the bicep. Immobilization. Frozen shoulder. Twisted tendons and ligaments.¬†

All (and more) applicable to the left shoulder.

A treatment program comprised of many elements, some with a jin shin jyutsu practitioner and some at my own volition & inner guidance, is underway.

I won’t say that it’s a simple course of treatment. Or a simple problem. Far more than the left shoulder’s involved. It’s also the neck, the spine and now the whole of the back in a wide overcompensation. ¬†

I now have, in simplest terms, a physical problem that extends from the base of the skull to the tailbone, across the back and from shoulder tip to shoulder tip.

Uh-huh. It’s serious. And WAAAAAAY beyond what I can address, handle or solve on my own. Even my strident singlehanded willpower cannot fix what ails me. Debilitates me. And cripples me.

Very scary words indeed.

Back to last night.

Like I said, I’ve been working diligently with my own multilevel healing processes and a practitioner to arrest the degeneration and regain health and mobility and freedom from pain.

I favor slumber on my left side. That’s been, as I mentioned, completely impossible for months. Thanks to cumulative effects of many varied recovery efforts, my body felt ready last night to “test the waters.” With greatest care — and with my crippled left shoulder cupped supportively in my strong right hand — I GENTLY turned onto my left side.

And my shoulder did not scream back in pain!

That is progress! 

I did not force the issue — or position. I remained keenly alert and attentive to my shoulder’s messages on threshold of discomfort and pain. In the side sleep position, my¬†shoulder was up for maybe 5 minutes. Then it said “enough. now move to another position, please.”¬†

Five minutes is more than it’s been able to take in months! It was a gentle 5 minutes. A kind 5 minutes. A loving 5 minutes. It felt FANTASTIC for the whole of me to lie on my left side and favored side for the first time in a long time.¬†

It was as much an accomplishment as a crippled person rising from a wheelchair and walking 3 steps!

While the whole of the night was spent in the adopted fare of positions uncomfortable, unnatural or forced — for the left shoulder is in NO WAY ready or able to accept the weight of sleep — I’m thrilled that it could accept it for 5 minutes.¬†

It is progress. It is accomplishment. It is change.

I would like to say there is hope.


from stabbing shoulder pain to stabbing (bitch) boss

Some salt ‘n’ pepper, a smidge of sage and a sprinkle of rosemary. Today’s post is a hodgepodge — but not particularly spicy in the way of, say, 100hotsites.com.

* I didn’t get the job at the humane society. I’m partly disappointed. I love animals and the pay’s better than my current 10 cents above minimum wage.

And I’m partly relieved. Returning to a 40-hour workweek at this old-lady age isn’t desired or relished unless it’s in my career. Actually it’d be a 45-hour week when including the required 1-hour lunch. That’s a LOT of time at a jobsite and with the commute a good part of the day gone.

* I’m in chronic constant pain from the left shoulder injury. Pain from morning through night. It’s really affecting my well-being and tasks at the job. Have you tried cleaning hotel rooms with one hand — and as Speedy Gonzales to boot?! Doesn’t work! So all I can do is push through the pain, creating further injury.

It’s also badly affected my sleep. The pain’s constant, can’t sleep on the left side or even turn without shock waves and spasms radiating through the shoulder and along the back, neck and arm. Sometimes I must use my (good) right hand to position the left arm.

I’m like the bird with the damaged wing. The cause of the chronic sharp pain is difficult to ascertain but we (practitioner and I) suspect shoulder nerve impingement, a result of neck & shoulder displacement caused by bad beds.

It’s got me so down. I’ll be needing to increase the treatments from the once-every-two-weeks recommended by bd to maybe once every 7-10 days. Every two weeks can’t accomplish recovery and in fact is making matters worse by adding to injury through work and life.

Monday I go in for treatment #2. Hopefully ground lost in these past two weeks will be gained and we can put the brakes on the degeneration.

* I’ve been really really down. The crippled shoulder is DEFINITELY a huge reason why. Living in round-the-clock sharp pain and immobility is a huge reason why.

* The job market is hardly bursting with opportunity. Not that it really matters at this point. No matter whether I’m at my current job or another, the use of both arms and shoulders is necessary.

A bird with a crippled wing cannot perform or fly. I wish I could get my arm back. I’m hurting a lot externally and on the inside.

* Not to be overlooked is that this injury has been going on since late last year. It is exhausting. I am exhausted by pain and body dysfunction.

Guess I didn’t have the newsy mishmash that I thought. Everything’s experienced through the lens of a broken wing.

I’m tired and grumpy from sleep that’s of poor quality and severe pain.

* One tidbit of good news: I’m drinking my daily smoothies pretty consistently (missing no more than a day or two at a time) as well as eating better overall than I have in a long, long time. I’m also taking a s**tload of supplements & herbs to assist my health.

This nerve impingement however is killing me. I’d wish this on no one. Not even Vickie A., my worst nemesis and former boss at the Idaho paper. For her, I’d wish nerve impingement in BOTH shoulders! {Hahaha, kidding; maybe. ūüėČ } Some people just get under your skin and you can never get ’em out until you’ve shed that skin in death. Or forgiveness.

Done for the day, adios. And to Vickie A., wherever you are (cuz I know you’re no longer in Idaho), I just wanna say what I never got to say:

*You’re the meanest boss I ever had. And I’ve had a LOT of bosses! You were cold and cruel to me personally while “warm ‘n’ fuzzy” to others. You singled me out for god knows what reasons and you made my life there a living hell.

By rearranging the cubicle seating, you separated me from my two friends and only support. You ISOLATED me. You did this deliberately and intentionally.

Well, fuck you! for fucking up a good thing and destroying what little comfort and happiness I had in Idaho. I’m not responsible for your comeuppance and karma. However, know that it is coming, if not now, eventually.

YOU were a huge part of the reason I got out of newspaper editing. I never wanted to have a fucking bitch of a boss again.

And guess what. I haven’t.

I dare not condemn you to Hades; that not only gets me nowhere but draws to me further suffering and I don’t need that.

Instead, Vickie A., I turn your issues back over to YOU. Your treatment of me was YOUR crap, not mine. I forgive and release you to your own path and Light.

I let you do me no more harm {you’ve done quite enough in the past 10 years}. I wish you growth. I wish myself healing and ONLY good female bosses and the freedom to fly again.


p.s. whoa! from stabbing shoulder pain to stabbing boss … had no idea this post would go there!