Work It Baby, Work It Out.

Gah, I'm staring down the barrel at yet another weekend of work, and its coming at me a lot quicker than I want it to!! It only feels like I JUST got home, and tomorrow I have to make final preparations for leaving again.  Presley is starting to push himself up and then stand there, wobbling but on his own two feet, for a few seconds before falling onto his butt with a screech and a giggle.  I know he is going to take his first steps any day now and I am terrified that I'll miss them.

This makes 4 weekends of work out of 5.  The only Thurs/Fri/Sat I had off was when hubs was sick and in the hospital, so you can't even really consider that a break.  I'm feeling pretty ok physically, but that's probably because when I'm at home all I do is sleep, chill with bubba, and rest my aching elbows and butt muscles.  (You hover over a couple dozen "gentlemen" maintaining a 20 cm distance between his crotch and yours while trying to look sexy and you'll have the best ass shape of your life, I tell ya!)

Some things I have discovered from this work-a-thon:

1.  It takes me a few hours at home to shed my stripper skin and release some sort of post-work tension.  I don't even know I am holding it, in my shoulders and the space between my eyes, until its gone.  This requires either a nap, or a few glasses of coffee followed by a few glasses of wine.  (Not the healthiest, I know, but very effective)

2.  By the time Saturday night is halfway finished, if I have made over a certain benchmark, I am inclined to sort of....quit, and chill on the couch by myself.  I think I just have a subconscious limit of how many strangers I can writhe all sexy-like on top of in a given weekend.  I hit it, and then flat out refuse to dance any more.  That's one of the best parts: unlike a serving job, or a bartender position, they can never make me serve customers.

3.  If I don't take sleeping pills, I'm up by 10 a.m., no matter what.  That's only 4 1/2 hours of sleep.  That's a grouchy situation.

I'll work this weekend in a lil 'ol mining town, then next weekend I'll head north up the coast a bit and hope to meet up with a ship of American troops docking for some sort of break. (The newspaper said 21,000 troops are expected)  Apparently there is good money in entertainment-starved navy personnel, but I don't find discourse with those of a military slant particularly enjoyable, and when you add alcohol and American citizenship into the mix.....*shudder* it better be bloody awesome money.  

And after that, I'm not putting on those fake eyelashes, the stripper shoes and that stripper smile for at least two weeks.