Saturday, November 12, 2016

Bad Coffee

I'm not doing well right now. Not well at all.

I've come to the conclusion that working at Starbucks is just not for me. This is a job for young people, those who can work at top speed for several hours at all hours of the day and do lots of running, bending, and lifting. Simply put, I'm having a lot trouble keeping up with the physical demands of this job.

I come home from every shift tired and aching. I really don't know what I'm doing yet and it shows. I dread going to work, even for a few hours. The kids I work with all know their jobs and have no trouble dealing the demands of a busy store while I slowly bumble around, barely getting anything done.

I fucking hate this.

Even worse, the stress is seriously getting to me. I had a panic attack tonight, my first one in months. I have some Xanax but I have to be at work by 7am and if I take any it'll knock me out until at least mid-morning. There's no way I'll sleep tonight without it, so here I am at 2:30 in the morning writing a blog post.

Even though it goes against every fiber of my being in terms of being responsible, I'm seriously considering calling out today because I just don't want to face it. The more I consider going into work in a few hours, the higher my anxiety level rises. I don't know what I'm going to do.

Maybe it's time for me to finally admit to myself that I just can't do this kind of work anymore. Sure, I can still run a cash register, do sales, maybe even be a manager if it's not too physically demanding, but I think my days as a retail grunt are over. I'm just too old for this shit, and between the effects of both middle age and injectable estrogen my body simply isn't up to it anymore.

I'm thinking it might be more than that, though. I don't think it's a coincidence that I just had my first panic attack in months, a few days after I started this job. When I'm in my own space, doing what I do well, writing, I'm fine...well mostly fine anyway. At Starbucks, I'm outside my comfort zone, working at a job I'm not particularly good at, and I'm just a ball of stress and anxiety. I've done a good job of concealing it at work so far, but it's there all the time and it's getting to me, more every time I go in. I worry that one day soon I won't be able to tamp it down on the job without taking something, and that would be bad, bad, bad.

Maybe it's time to re-apply for disability. I tried once, years ago, but was denied. I don't know, but I know I have to do something, and I have to do it soon. Very soon.

Shit.