I don’t have the taste in my heart for hate anymore. I used to love to hate. I’d hate my competitors, hate some people who’d disrespect me even hated my neighbor. It just steamed away yall.

Extinguished. I’m not sure when it happened. I had someone use the word hate in front of me the other day, like resounding and multiple times and I physically winced. I could feel its sharp edge poking into my skin enough to where I stepped back. It was a customer talking to her friend at the counter. She seemed to be having a bad day and wanted to shed it onto others. I’ve been there bro. Boy have I.

I’ve used that word a lot. In the past it was my mantra. If you were living a better life than me I hated it. I worked just as hard as you why did you benefit and I didn’t? You should suffer like I did.

Hate

Bitterness

Anger

Shields of deflection away from myself.

Anytime that word “hate” pops up I try to train my mind to find a lesser word for it.

That’s all.

Words carry energy. Choose them like you would an oration of intentions. Think of the words you use all the time. I feel like they build you into who you are.

That’s all.

Speaking of suffering I’ve begun to look back on mine with a sense of accomplishment and relief. I’m not a masochist I’m actually a lot softer and sensitive than I try to make myself out to be in person or online.

But

When it comes to suffering I’ve kicked some ass. I’ve beaten some tough odds in my life. I may have bitched and griped the whole fucking way

But

In the end I overcame. Or at least tied

Suffering gives you thick skin. The big deals to some are little things to you. The common things people complain about don’t phase you. People bitch about the rain when you’ve walked through hurricanes. No I’m not building an inspirational poster here with Johnny Depp standing on a beach. This is my observational view. If there’s one thing about working in the service industry it’s when the world seems to be on fire you use it to light your cigarette.

Service industry is almost out of my veins. I always thought I’d always remain a lifer

But

It’s fading. Like an old roadside cafe sign from the 70s.

Chipped, broken, eroded from the constant sand blowing gusts of semis and vehicles driving by with no notice or mention of the dilapidated building underneath.

But in a good way. I’ve been weathered, seasoned, scattered, smothered and covered in the industry.

It’s almost entirely gone.

Gone are the feelings I get when I walk into these places. The anxiety. I hear the tickets printing, I watch the fryer baskets being shook like wet dogs over the fryer when the fries are pulled out of the grease.

I hear the hoods humming

The expo barking, the bartenders gossiping about the bar regular at the end.

I’ve finally managed to release.

A restaurant PTSD

I don’t rush to make coffee like I used to. My restaurant blood always made me rush. If I eat at work I turn everything off in my mind. I put my phone down, I make an actual plate of food and I go sit down.

I’ve eaten over so many trash cans in my lifetime

I always disliked that (see what I didn’t use there?)

Practice

Devotion

I used to avoid that word. I felt like a slave to some system when I used it.

Odd

Used to

It’s a solid word. I use it often now

I’ve almost erased my restaurant brain. Even at work my deli, essentially a restaurant, I move around more methodically. Deliberately choosing my speed. I’ve cut back on my “yeah I can fit you in”. I have a mental limit for my schedule daily.

“I’m good for this much today” anything else? Gotta wait until tomorrow. Last week I had zero boxes for three days. That usually causes me to move things around the deli. “Shake some shit up” as I refer to it. I grabbed a stool and placed it behind my counter and sat down.

Rested

I stopped selling tickets to the show a while back.

I’m on my first week of another rewiring of sorts. I used to look back on these with a little anxiousness of “can I do it?” Now it’s acceptance.

As I’ve said about suffering, it brings a certain reliability to life. Diligence to a duty.

I used to hate suffering.

I used to hate a lot of things.

Used to