Frau Evelina

It's been a love and hate relationship between me and my perfectionist, Frau Evelina.
That's what I've decided to name her. A Russian raised in Germany. She has pointy glasses, very tall and slender. Her black hair is always tightly pulled back into a bun. She loves black tight fitting designer dresses and always has red lipstick on her tightly pursed lips. She has perfectly manicured nails and wears extremely high and uncomfortable RED stilettos (you can hear her coming from miles away in those heels).
She doesn't talk much, but she's always there. She constantly gives me the evil glare making sure I'm living within her rules. When I take a stumble, she does not give a hand. Instead, she towers herself over me with her arms wrapped together around her body. Then, she'll either smirk or tap her heels impatiently as I struggle to get back up.
I have an extreme craving for her approval. Like a good little girl, I go to her and ask "Is that correct? Does that please you?" I just really want her to like me...Not because she's really cool, but because she is just so damn mean to me.
And yet, after everything I have done--the fun that I've cut myself off, the blood that I've bled, the tears I have shed, the bruises, the wounds, the lies...she never once has and never will approve of me. I will never measure up to her standards.

"WHAT'S THE POINT OF HAVING YOU IN MY LIFE?"

She stands there and stares at me. Not a word. Just that look.

I'm getting better at ignoring her. When I do acknowledge her, I become utterly miserable. Most the time, I start talking to myself because she's so non-responsive to my need for her input. Usually, that's when you know Evelyn's having a rough day.

Now that I've said all of this, a surge of relief trickles over me. She's still there...standing with her arms crossed, in those disgusting high heels. She can stand in her corner all she wants (I know she will).

Without needing a word with her, I'm moving on with my day.

Sowiee...

When you work in a restaurant, you often find yourself in the midst of very ugly situations between the employees and customers. Those are the moments when the employee must learn how to keep his/her composure and solve the problem as speedily as possible. The only way to do so successfully is by divorcing one's self from the emotions and stress, and be EXTREMELY decisive. As my teacher Audrey's said once, this is all in part of the development of the "fuck-it" layer of skin towards the ugly parts in life.

Yesterday, life thought that it was a good day to enforce my "fuck-it" layer of skin.

And, instead of remembering what I've learned through my previous experiences, I repeated my mistakes and was once again eaten alive by perfectionism. I was too concerned, too obsessed by my performance and image at work. There was a problem, and I did not fix it. By the time I realize what I had to do, I've already missed my chance.
And "missing the chance" resulted in an unpleasant session of bickering between the customer, the server, the manager and me.
All I could say at that point was sorry. I should have done all of the above, but got caught up in the the stress of that moment. So I am very sorry.

Sorry, Jim. Sorry, Del. Sorry, Matt. Sorry, me...

Once again, life reveals more lessons to learn. The stupidest but most fortunate part of all this is...it's only a restaurant job. It's stupid that I cannot even handle the situation as a restaurant hostess, but boy am I fortunate to learn how to in a place where it doesn't matter.

Moral of the story:
1) Seize the moment when it comes to you
2) Do not be overwhelmed by others' stresses and emotions
3) Trust your rationale. There is a problem, fix it.
4) Recognize your pattern, and then move on.