Memory Anxiety

Good morning. I slept in this morning, as I don't work until 4:30. Ah, the good ole part-time, all-over-the-place work schedule. Man, that shit is for the birds. Even as a stripper, I kept a fairly consistent schedule. I do miss being able to call in "just 'cuz".  Honestly I didn't implement that privilege that often, really. It was about a once a month affair, which in irresponsible dancer world is not that much. And the core reason was usually PMS- those days that I would have rather gouged out the customer's eyes than listen to one more minute of his corny, middle-aged-married-man-nearing-midlife-crisis sex fantasies. I'm sorry guys, I know that's an asshole remark but some of you are so typical. And it can freak us dancers out- makes us think, do all marriages end up like this? With the guy bored as hell with the daily routine, and horny as hell 'cuz his wife has turned into a freezer pop over the years of child-rearing, career maintenance, and Xanax popping? Then again, I shouldn't scorn such a large part of the dancer's income, I guess :P
  The title of this post is in reference to this 'issue' I have in the beginning of each week. I guess a psychologist would label it separation anxiety, but I like to think of it as 'memory disquiet disorder'. As you know, I'm in a wonderful relationship and our weekends are pretty banging on all counts. Monday morning comes, he goes off to work, and after a few hours (if I'm not working), I kinda start becoming a nutcase. It's almost like we've broken up, and all the memories of us, and us in our apartment, start haunting me. It's not pretty, I assure you. Not CPEP worthy, but very uncomfortable. Yesterday I left the apartment and went for a long, fast-paced walk, and sometimes that doesn't work because there's memories of that, also. Does that make any sense? It's only Monday, sometimes Tuesday, that this mental fisticuffs occurs, then I'm okay the rest of the week. Does anyone have issues with good memories like this? It's so bizarre to me because I've never had separation anxiety from my mate before. Nope, usually I was waiting for the bastard to leave.
   At work, the uppers have decided that a good way to sell the rest of the orchid supply from the summer was to put three of them at the end of each register, where they are in constant danger of being knocked over.  Last night, two older ladies came through my line, and while I was working on the transaction, one reached out to an orchid and gently held one of the blossoms. She goes to her friend, "I absolutely adore orchids. Do you know why I love this blossom? What does it look like to you?" 
 Her friend immediately responded, "A vagina." 
 "Exactly!" her friend agreed. "That's why I love them!"
 Awesome sauce :D 
KR