Bonfire of awe and a thirst was burning
Heart like a house, the floorboards were turning
Dark river beds where slumber was decay

The light, it wrapped you in its flame
The only heir of the breaking day
Made words an arrow only you could aim

With no injury to claim
I’m a big mess of little joys

Something about the tempo of this song is really soothing, in a way I’ve never experienced any other song. This song immediately makes me think of little hell. An album and a song, both written by Dallas green, the idea behind the term little hell was that life is about the trials and tribulations you have to go through to get to the moments of joy in it.

Looking back on the fact that I’ve had the words “little hell” tattooed on my wrists for ten years, makes me see that maybe I’m not as pessimistic as I once was, and maybe some day I won’t be pessimistic at all. I think ten years ago most things felt like little hell’s and very few things felt like moments of joy.

Now I feel like I need to get little joy tattooed on me, because without fail each day I catch myself looking stupid smiling at something small that brings me joy. Without fail every day as I walk from the parking garage to work, I see something that puts a dumb smirk on my face, and it’s funny because the grumpy old man within me always gets mad when I catch myself making that face. Like you’re a grown man why are you smiling at a puppy that looks a little perky walking down the street.

Or I smirk at the old couple sitting on the park bench just enjoying each others company, knowing that’s something I long for, but inevitably will never have. Ah back to the pessimist.

I used to look at life as all little hells, and once in a while you’d get that one moment of joy. I was young, I was angry at the world for the childhood I had. I was and still am deeply afraid of failure. I didn’t have friends, I didn’t really have people to talk to about it. I took it out on people that didn’t deserve it. I was a selfish little brat.

Now I look at life as each day I see something, just the smallest thing, and for that split second, life doesn’t seem so terrible, it seems a little more manageable. It’s these little things that make me say ok we can keep going, we can do this another day.

Realistically, the problem here, is that so many of the joys in my life revolve around what I do for a living. Without my job I’m not sure I’d have a purpose, I’m not sure I’d have the desire to continue on.

I met someone interesting recently, who sort of checked a lot of the boxes, and it’s funny, a friend told me not to wait too long to tell her how I felt, if I wait too long I might regret it. My response was if I wait long enough she’ll get what she deserves, which is more than I can give.

In a broad sense I feel that way about everyone, and I’m sure it’s both a coping skill and a response to past trauma. When your own parents abandon you to do drugs, I think you kinda feel.. well not good enough. It’s like children of divorce who feel like it’s their fault their parents got divorced even though their parents never should have been married in the first place. I don’t think my parents did drugs because of me, but as someone with relatively strong willpower, I do think they made the decision to do drugs instead of take care of me. I think they knew that if they continued down the path they were on that ultimately they’d lose custody of me. July 8th, 2008. That’s when my sister was first granted temporary guardianship over me. That’s the day my life was saved. In 2013 my sister left too though. She moved to Chicago for work, and while she was passionate about her job and only 29 an age I’m approaching, she picked work over taking care of me. Please understand I’m not mad at her for it, I’m not upset by any means. She gave up most of her 20’s to take care of me, I’m glad she finally did something for her.

It did bring back that feeling of not being good enough, or worth enough to stay for though. Like she had already lost hope in me and moved on, the same feeling as when my parents stopped taking care of me. I think at the end of the day what she did wasn’t malicious, and it probably had nothing to do with me, but tell that to a kid.

I was thinking yesterday about how the restaurant industry is the only place I’ve ever felt like I belonged. The only place I feel at home, the only place I feel worth anything. It’s probably why I’ve spent a vast majority of the last 11 years in them. I was also thinking about how if the pandemic never happened I’d probably own my own restaurant right now. Then I remembered that all these feelings of ifs and not being good enough were just anxiety.

I’m getting ready to become the general manager of 1928 in beacon hill. The second 1928 is very much on its way, and when it comes I think I’d like to stay in beacon hill. The problem is that I don’t feel like I deserve the position of general manager. I don’t feel like I’ve earned it, and I don’t feel worthy. I also realized that the way I work is unhealthy, and the last few days I’ve wondered if it would be more healthy for me to find a job I don’t enjoy as much.

The downfall to loving your job is that, when you don’t really have friends or family, work becomes.. your life. I want to work every day, I want to be in the restaurant for every minute of service, so if people I know come in I don’t miss the chance to say hello, so if something goes wrong I can fix it, so I don’t miss anything.

A while ago I had this theory, sometimes I have too many theories. This one was that I had to pick between dating and working, because they cant coexist. Dating is a distraction from work, and I cant give someone the attention and time they deserve if I’m spending all my time at the restaurant. I got myself out of that frame of thinking but, we’re back. I’ve had the opportunity to maybe hang out with some really kind people recently in a dating setting, and I’ve either turned it down or ignored it completely because, I want to work.

I mentioned in a recent blog that the level of people coming into my life recently is at an all time high. Just like quality wise, so many beautiful, kind, generous people have come into my life. But I have these strict rules I try to stick to, where you cant date staff, which is an easy one for me because that’s a one way ticket to ending your career. The other is you cant date guests, and that one is tricky. My ex fiancé was at some point just a bar guest, then she brought beauty and meaning into my life for 6 years. I’ve been intimate with guests in the past, and they’ve taught me valuable life lessons. But now I feel like I’m at a point where I’m no longer just the really good bartender with a really aggressive ego. I’m not the manager, with an ego still, but as a manager you sort of represent a business, and what does it say of this business if you’re dating people who come in.

I guess I’ve decided I won’t date. I keep saying I was meant to be alone in life, so I’ll stick to that. I’ll remain alone. I’ll use work as something to fill my cup until it doesn’t anymore, and hopefully that’s far enough down the road that I don’t have to find the next thing. A sort of swearing to celibacy, which to be fair, I’ve already been for like 2 years and it couldn’t have less of an impact on my day to day life. As Morgan Freeman says, I’ve never been a big skirt chaser, or a ladies man. I guess I’ll become married to the life.

My favorite story of a restaurant owner finding meaning both in and out of work is Bobby Stuckey. He owns a few restaurants in Colorado, one named sunday vinyl. The name is homage to his wife, who for the past 26 years has put up with him working 6 days a week, and every sunday they hangout and drink wine and listen to vinyl records. I cant think of a more fulfilling life.

Stay well.

J.