Drivers Driving Me Crazy

I've made no attempt at hiding my PTSD from the accident and some moments are far worse than others, but these drivers down here in sunny Florida are driving me crazy. I was once told that most drivers expect a last minute merge and cutoff, so that's how you should just do it because it's already anticipated...um no. 

I'm overly cautious because I have a huge fear of the sideswipe. Blind spots freak me out and the speed with which people drive around is concerning in general. Since I've been driving to St. Pete daily for the work week, I've become even more sensitive but also more used to how crazy it can get.

I'm not going to sit here and pretend I don't look at my phone while I'm driving ever. Besides needing to be a Spotify DJ and moments at stops lights of boredom, I try very much not to mess with my phone in transit. What concerns me now, is how much cell phones are just a constant in every car and how now one seems to pay attention to what is around them, but rather has phone in hand, just driving along. I'm not exaggerating that it's almost every car and that you'll find it with me too.

Yesterday on my way home on the Bayside bridge I saw this white sedan feverishly tailgating in stop and go traffic. Swerving to get between and in front of everyone and noticeably pissing off drivers everywhere,  when I finally passed her she was texting on her phone. It was crazy, but I sighed to myself, "Of course!" She was already driving recklessly and so naturally, let's add the cell phone into the mix.

I can't speak for anyone else in terms of surviving a traumatic car accident, but I am just very sensitive to all aspects of the commute, along with traffic and driving woes. It is a bitter diatribe overall, but also just a question of safety. When my daughter is in the car with me I'm even more overly cautious, because it just freaks me out how crazy drivers can be these days.

I grew up in places made of small towns, country roads, and then mountain roads. This was before cell phones were really a commodity, let alone commonplace in a car. Oregon has distracted driving laws. My dad will pull over when I call, tell me he can't talk for another hour, then safely call me back at home. New York has something similar I think.

Don't get me wrong, Michael Scott said it best as Florida being a "Colorful, lawless swamp," but I've never seen so many accidents and had never really been in one, until we moved here.

Now, I learned how to drive in south Florida, off of I-95 near one of America's most notably "dangerous" stretches of highway. It was a lot like that iconic scene from Clueless where they end up on the freeway freaking out:

My husband never understood why I drove so defensively like, "kill or be killed" on the Oregon highways until we moved to Tampa and one day had the a-ha moment of "Oh, you had to outwit all these psycho drivers! I see now!"

It doesn't help that we have so many snow birds either. To their credit, we love what our part time residents do for the Florida economy and we appreciate it, but it's confusing and frustrating when the locals need to be places. These drivers are driving me crazy!

It seriously stresses me out and gives me anxiety to the point where I will go out of my way to go around certain trigger areas or areas that I just can't deal with. After driving in Oregon and then coming back to Florida, and I just so happen to actually know the majority of the pedestrian, driving and even cycling laws, I usually have the above Zoolander reaction regularly.

More often than not it is all maddening. I try to just breathe and take it down a notch but these drivers drive me crazy. I'm sure I drive people nuts too, but I seriously wish that before we enter the era where the cars just drive for us, we could all actually learn to drive safely. However, after all this I have come to the conclusion that Florida may be just playing it fast and loose with the definition of "safely."

Buckle up readers!

Take It Down A Notch

I'm unsure as if it has to do with my being short and sassy, but I'm also naturally loud. It has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion, especially in earlier years of cell phone usage. Sometimes I feel like my inner anxiety is even loud, like SHOUTING, and I just have to breathe and take it down a notch. At 34 I'm still "using my inside voice" in more ways than one!

Above is Ross doing his "quiet down thing," and I feel like I bring this out this reaction in most people. Learning to reign it in mentally, has been a battle all on it's own. I now understand that those moments where my anxiety spins me out of control are kind of like relapses, but as I get better with maintenance, the relapses get less bad in change.

What's weird for me is that I feel like in the midst of the chaos I can handle myself relatively well, but when things get calm and then I hit a speed bump, it's like a red alert. See Michael Scott:

I organize to the point of compulsiveness often, when it comes to budget, bills, scheduling, reservations for things, planning for life, play dates, routines, chores, and everything else in between. Sometimes when bigger things tend to surprise me, it is then I become unhinged. In another aspect, if I'm already struggling with one thing that I'm maintaining my energy with and you throw me another curve ball, you're likely to find me with a black eye. I'm anything but prepared.

In the wake of turning 34 and saying goodbye to my beloved boot camp I felt down a peg or two. I was personally taken down a notch. My birthday was fine, but I was stressed in general, I can't lie. We have tax stuff coming up, bills, car maintenance, and a lot going on for me personally so I was trying so hard to just push through. Yesterday was the beginning of some deep conversational type stuff for life plans and it all just really hit me.

I went from 0 to 60 in nothing flat and was over-dramatizing and just super upset. Goals and plans are important to me. What can I say? I'm extremely Monica:

  

I reached out to my tribe to get all the different sides of the main question I always ask, "Am I allowed to be upset about this?" After careful consideration and reflection, and important opinions, I had to really take it down a notch. My first instinct is always the worst, that's why I never send my first typed response for a heated question via text. My first answer is always, sassy, snarky, and rude. When I put the phone down and take a step back I can answer...the less Anxious Alison way, which is usually nicer.

Later I further investigated the scope of my anxieties and then asked the questions out loud that I needed answered and listened to each response. Active listening is no joke. It is hard! I didn't yell in response, I didn't "freak out," I didn't lose my temper, I just took it all in.

Can we call this all growth? Sometimes handling all of this makes me want to hide and color in my pillow fort. Sometimes I feel like a bad ass full time working mom ready to take on the world! Most of the time it just makes me tired.

Last night after all of this self-inflicted emotional turmoil, and knowing I had a really good weekend ahead of me, I just read Fancy Nancy with my daughter and hugged and kissed her a lot. I breathed a breath of grateful and went to bed. How's that for taking it down a notch?

Much like age has taught me to quiet my voice in every circumstance necessary, age has taught me to handle my anxiety appropriately. Well, age and therapy. I can organize and plan and over-plan or over-book but nothing really prepares you for life's crazy changes, especially when you're already overwhelmed. 

My best tool is taking it down a notch...all of it, all the time, in every avenue. Whether it's my anxiety, my anger, my attitude, my stress, if you can just take a step back, it makes all the difference. I'm seriously starting to relate to the Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson classic, Anger Management now:

It's something that requires attention, mindfulness and it takes a lot of practice. Say Goosfraba if you must! But in all the mania of the past couple weeks, it hasn't hurt to take it down a notch! So down a notch, here I come to embrace the weekend! You all should too!

Life In Proximity To The Hospitality Industry

About a decade ago, I left my life of being a nanny and a full time student in Eugene, Oregon to come to the "beautiful, lawless swamp" that is Florida. My first job was a cashier in a medical apparel store or "Scrub Store" as we called it in the University Community Hospital right by USF main campus.

My husband, however, has always been a restaurant man and a self-taught cook, which is one of the reasons I married him, because I cannot cook, like at all. I can bake a few things but outside of Mac and Cheese, sandwiches and salads, nope.

The hubby got a job at like 19 or 20 maybe at "Pizza Pete's" Italian Kitchen in Eugene and worked his way up from the dish pit and delivery to learning the ropes in the kitchen. From there it was to the new, soon to be hot spot, "El Vaquero," which was Eugene's premier Tapas Bar, and also had one of America's top 5 bartenders, Jeffrey Morgenthaler, as the man behind the cocktails. Morgenthaler and his second in command, Scott Butler, took my hubby under their wing from time to time to show him all about craft cocktails and what real bartenders looked like.

At El Vaquero my husband went from prep to pastry chef and a little bit in between. When the owners saw that he could actually thrive in the kitchen, the sent him across town to his pride and joy, Asado. Asado was a smaller, but also intimate Mexican-type kitchen with tapas and cocktails, and it was there he found his long time friend, Jarred, who was a groomsman at our wedding. He learned how to run a kitchen and even a restaurant during his time there.

When Asado was sold, he moved onto The Old Pad, which was strictly "bar food" and then lastly to the Villard Street Pub near campus. He has learned every single cuisine from scratch, from Italian to Mexican, to Sushi to Coastal Cuisine and lastly, French food. In Florida he got a job at a Sushi place, a Mexican Grille, then a local bar, he helped open a new Coastal Kitchen in Westchase and designed the menu, then for the same company put together craft cocktails and American gastro-pub fare at another new restaurant that holds two locations to this day and will remain nameless. From there he did some time at a local artisan sandwich place, finally landing a high-end French fine dining establishment close to home. He's never gone to culinary school and is extremely talented in my humble opinion.

However, living the life of the wife of a chef, is anything but easy. I had my foray in the food biz about 9 and a half years ago too. We once worked at the same restaurant together, he was in the kitchen and I was front of the house. I had the personality and the energy for it, but I got burned and burned out quickly in every sense of the words. The picture above is from my favorite restaurant life movie "Waiting," which I used to watch weekly to handle the stress of that whole atmosphere.

I was good at my job too, but I had no desire to be a manager and the tipping system where I was, left a lot to be desired. I met some amazing people though, and learned a lot. My biggest takeaway is pictured below, please excuse the swear but unfortunately it is completely true:

While I am incredibly proud of my husband and ever-impressed by his culinary evolution, no one tells you that life in restaurant industry is rough as you enter the family phases. And I say this for me personally, not even just for the man working the stove! We had once talked about running a restaurant together someday, and even once had the opportunity to do so outside of Florida, but as my husband simply said, "Then you would really never see me."

When I say I never see my husband let's break it down for all you non-believers. After half a decade of struggling as parents and job-jumping and life hurdles, I have found my "forever job," that is unless they fire me. It is an 8-5, lunch at noon office type thing. It is reliable with all the benefits that work best for family life. The kid is in school and after care full tilt. My daughter and I are off full weekends and I'm home every single evening.

Hubby is not quite on the same schedule although he did score Saturdays as a routine day off, which is a restaurant life miracle, but regardless, we don't have much time together. In a realistic scope, we have Saturday from about 8:30am to 10pm at night, give or take bed times, so what is that 13ish hours? And we have Sunday mornings from say 7:30am to 1:30pm, but throw in church drumming, commuting and errands, maybe separate cars, we can call that a good 4 hours of seeing each other? And he is off all day Monday and I get home at 6pm and am always in bed by 9pm weekdays so, let's call that 3 hours? So doing the math; 13 + 4 + 3 is...20 hours a week.

I have the opportunity to see my husband for a total of 20 hours a week, at best. That is less than a full day out of 7 days each week. You may think I'm exaggerating or being dramatic, and I'd like to say I am but add in errands, or plans with other people on the nights I have back up and it's easily less than 20 hours a week. It's not an simple thing.

For the longest time, this born of was necessity. When you literally cannot afford childcare or daycare or anything like that but still can't just stay home full time, you work opposite shifts, not matter how crappy and painful. You promise yourself it will get easier as the kiddo gets older and it does in SOME ways, but the more things change, the more things stay the same.

My husband's talents are completely underrated by many; I think my dad and sisters may be his biggest fans. He usually gets irritated because of all the favorite things of his I love for him to make, all I ever want is Tacos and Pizza, which he finds unimpressive. They are so damn good though!

He's always made me insanely proud because he has brought himself up from the dish pit to a sous chef, but that's not to say the life in proximity to the hospitality industry doesn't have its sacrifices and challenges, because it very much does.

The wives that send their men to the army, or that have husbands that constantly travel for business, or their hubby runs a hotel or bar? Those are the women in my tribe who can commiserate, if not trump my whining over wine-ing. It sucks sometimes, but unfortunately I've gotten used to it.

In a perfect world we'd have family meals every evening, we'd have routine nights out and all the sporting events and extra curricular activities would rule our nights and weekends, but we are far from being able to do that. We cram a lot into Saturdays. We juggle a lot on Sunday mornings more often than not, and we just keep on keeping on.

It's hard for a lot of people to understand and sometimes I wonder if we would even know how to be around each other more, if it ever happened. Even on vacations it's like divide and conquer and we have to re-learn how to be around each other for that many hours in row. 

I'm extremely grateful to have a man who works insanely long, 12-14 hour shifts on his feet creating delicious food and still manages to cook for me, while providing for the family. Although, I will say,  life in the hospitality business is not for the faint of heart. There are a million times I wish he could have come home early from a shift to help with the sick kid, the sick dog or a sick me, but alas we continued.

I think life is hard enough as it is, and as we grow older we just look for ways to shape things to ease the rough exteriors and make everything more palatable. I very much have to take one day at a time. I've learned that planning in advance with his career is super difficult. I've learned how to operate around the Kitchen chaos. I've learned that most of kitchen life is fluid and if you can't stand the heat, you gotta get out of the kitchen, all puns intended. 

Maybe some day schedules will align and be different but for now, we stay grateful for the food on the table, the roof over our heads and health we have to work the hours we do, especially for him. As I live this life in proximity to the Hospitality Industry I can say I've learned so much and appreciate all the lessons...and the food, but certainly wouldn't mind seeing the man behind the food more often. A girl can dream! Cheers!

Bye Bye Boot Camp; The End Of An Era

On February 1st, 2014 I started my journey with Boot Camp at Bayside. We were living in Westchase and I was, for lack of a better word, overweight. My daughter had just celebrated her 1st birthday and I was ready to get my fitness back.

I used to LOVE the YMCA, and I tried to go back, but unfortunately I had a bad experience with their daycare, and I needed to find something to do when my husband was home. At this time, I was working from home, overnights between 12AM and 6AM. I was usually only scheduled from about 12 to 3 or 4, so I had time before my husband left for work at 10AM or 12PM to make sure I could sneak in a workout before he left or even better, before the baby got up. 

I was super active on Facebook in groups like Westchase Swap and Shop and Westchase Garage Sale, so I started looking for an alternative to some expensive gym with not great class times and someone suggested Boot Camp at Bayside, hosted just over the Oldsmar bridge in wonderful, Safety Harbor. I messaged the person in charge and he said they were having a Saturday workout to come and try it, see if it fits.

So, the day of my daughter's 1st birthday party, I went at 7AM to try it out. I could barely keep up and had multiple wardrobe malfunctions; I was not used to fitness including "mom boobs." I made it through and was invited to come right back on Monday morning at 6:15AM. We took this picture at her party that same afternoon when the soreness was kicking in.

I made it back Monday for a workout called "Island Party" and there was no party about it. I pushed myself, but my trainer eventually cut me off from all the running laps. It was grueling and hard, but the great thing about Boot Camp was it was a workout for every fitness level. You had moms like me, guys that were super athletic and didn't want to deal with the gym, runners, cross-fit fans, and everything in between.

I was a good 50 pounds heavier than when I got pregnant and I'd never been so big. It was time to get to work. It was not an easy 3 month start, but what was great was you started to get to know the people you worked out with too. It was a whole different thing than the gym. I spent the first year of Boot Camp in the 6:15 class and my trainer introduced me to something called, "Savage Race," which I did my first one of just 6 months later. That was so difficult. I barely jogged in between the obstacles and I certainly couldn't do all the obstacles but I got muddy and had fun.

It was also during this time period that an older boot camper heard me talking about working overnight and then coming to boot camp. He said, "You are home all day with the baby, you work from 12AM to 4AM and then come to boot camp at 6:15AM, 3 days a week?" He asked me if my husband could stay home with the baby if I worked during the day shift and said, "We might be able to find you something that works with your schedule," and handed me a business card to a car dealership.

I went in for an interview and was hired; and it was all because of Boot Camp. By the end of 2014, I had a new job, was down at least 30 pounds, had finished one Savage race, was training for another in 2015. I was ready to keep working hard. 

When I got the job at the dealership and decided I wanted to get much stronger, I started going to the 5:15AM Boot Camp class, which was much faster and more dedicated than those in the 6:15AM class. Then I started doing 2 hours of Boot Camp to train for Savage Race, and jog on my days off. I ran 2 Savage Races in 2015, March and October, and the March one was my best because I didn't get super sick after all that exertion, which was good. I sure had cold, muddy fun though!

I was super fit and having a great time, working normal hours and becoming myself again. I started to get to know everyone in my boot camp better. I met a lot of local moms and got to know my trainer to the point where I watched his kiddos from time to time and think he just might consider me a friend. When 2015 ended I was doing great and we had just moved into Safety Harbor, also with the help of Boot Camp, who recruited the Bayside Men's Group to help haul, load and unload. We provided bagels and coffee.

Boot Camp became a staple in my life. It was just always there. And I knew enough people in the group that we would always check in on each other and keep each other motivated. If you missed too many boot camps and weren't on vacation, you'd hear about it. You could be at the store and run into someone asking if you were okay, you could be on Facebook posting funny gym memes, or my favorite, in traffic and a Boot Camper pulls up next to you shouting about where you were that morning. It's a family.

I met most of my closest mom friends in Boot Camp, and in 2016, Boot Camp literally was our saving grace when we got into the car accident. In June 2016, a Wednesday morning after boot camp, and on my way to my job at the dealership, we got into a nasty car accident that put us all into the hospital, 2 out of 3 of us had severe injuries.

My boot camp mom squad and I used to have a morning Facebook group chat with, knew I was always quick to respond to anything. That morning they'd heard nothing from me and they knew something was wrong. One of my boot camp mom friends, and someone who I consider a mentor, beat us to the hospital when I called her to come help. And when my trainer checked in on us, I made a snarky comment about all we need is lots of money, and he took up a boot camp collection the next morning. He also showed up with a bunch of hand me down toys for my kiddo and helped us arrange anything we needed.

My boot camp family got me clothes for the hospital. Boot Campers bought us a new bed for our recovery because our old one wouldn't work. They CLEANED MY FILTHY HOUSE while we were in the hospital. They set up food delivery of casseroles and bought my kiddo toys and projects for her recovery. They donated gift cards, pizza money, spending cash and one mom even stocked my fridge with beer. They checked in often and I can now reveal, you boot campers made my big husband cry because I was so lucky to know you all. We even had a friend mow our lawn every two weeks for 2 months because my husband's shoulder was messed up.

Boot Camp at Bayside has helped me become healthy in more ways than one. And, sadly, Friday is the last day. This is not just for me; two weeks ago my trainer announced that the church no longer wished to host our morning routines and he would be looking into alternatives. While he has other plans in motion, the 5:15AM class days are officially over. 

This hit me really hard because no matter what over the past few years, Boot Camp was just there. It was a kind of "home base" for fitness and friendships. It was insanely affordable, comfortable and you worked out with your friends who were like family. No matter what our personal lives threw at us, we had boot camp. It didn't matter if you gained weight, ate too much, or had a bad week, people would encourage you and push you a little bit more to do better. 

In 2018 I joined another gym in addition to boot camp to get back into cycling and boot camp was still my most consistent routine. When you've been waking up at 4:45 for 4 years, you kind of get used to it. And even with weight fluctuations, I've kept a good 40 pounds off and stayed strong.

 

Closing Boot Camp at Bayside was a depressing announcement and he got a lot of people talking to him about, well what next? For me, it just broke me that the family I had known so well wouldn't congregate anymore. Sure you can always change up a routine, and you won't lose the relationships but Boot Camp is a GREAT workout! And even the workouts of the day I "hate" are still good for me! It's the end of an era!

Friday is my last day of 5:15AM Boot Camp at Bayside with all of my favorite people and I may actually cry. How do you say goodbye to something so simple, that completely changed your life for the better? Boot Camp kicked my butt into losing weight, and got me back into church to meet amazing people and helped me find job opportunities and direct me to where I belong. Boot Camp was my stability and a rock of fitness; always dependable. It will be missed. That may even be an understatement

While I'm super glad my trainer is moving onto new things, there is a part of me that will always be sad that it couldn't last forever but what is that saying, "Nothing good can stay?"

The memories and workouts will always be there, and the friendships will definitely outlast the Boot Camp at Bayside legacy. 

So for my year of 34, it might not have Boot Camp but it certainly has new challenges and positive changes. So Friday morning we will say goodbye to our Boot Campers and close the book on a pretty big fitness chapter. I will definitely be in mourning though, because losing this routine is a huge hit, but if Boot Camp left me with anything, it's the ability to work through it all, especially physically!