Morning readers, is the rain keeping you inside too?
If you’re wondering about the title, well I’m currently sat in my dressing gown with a cup of tea listening to Ellie Goulding. “Why do I always draw triangles?” is a lyric from her song I Wish I Stayed and so I just thought I’d use it as a starting point for this post.
I always draw triangles because I’m lazy. Well, I’m not lazy but it seems as though when I’m not working I’m doing absolutely nothing. And even when I do have work either in the morning or evening, I just sit about in my joggers and a hoodie, doing…well, nothing.
So, what? That’s what a lot of people do though right? You’re not the only person to sit about being a lazy arse before or after work. Very true. I’m not. I just thought it would be a good opportunity to bring in the topic of work, which is the main point of this post.
The last couple of shifts haven’t been the best, I shan’t lie. The fun started with Thursday; I’d voluntarily gotten myself a split shift (as to make sure I had the Wednesday to recover from my night out on Tusday). The usual split shift is fine. You work four or five hours in the morning and then four or five hours in the evening, making it a ten hour day tops. My split however, was a little more intense. I started at seven in the morning (which is fine) and finished for eleven (which again is very reasonable). I came back in at three however and spent two hours polishing plates and cutlery. This left me four hours at home to contemplate the fun I would be having that evening at work, the first two hours of which would be spent alone with only the chefs for company…need I say anything else?
Things actually got worse when break time came around. I was figuring out what was meant by the events discussed in my last post; my findings weren’t overly brilliant. No point beating round the bush. To say I’d been thinking about it non-stop since it happened, to discover that I’d been thinking about, in all actuality, nothing didn’t make me feel great. To be honest, I’m still a little confused as to what exactly it all meant. Unless the person involved really doesn’t have any recollection of what was said etc then…well, I’m as dumbfounded as it gets. But anyway, that’s off topic.
The fact I now had something else to contemplate for the remainder of my shift just meant I could not concentrate on anything. I gave someone a non-alcoholic bottled beer instead of pouring them a pint of Stella. I was attempting to speak Spanish to the group of guests we had in the restaurant that evening, but I forgot how to say even the basics. My mind was not focussed. I could not concentrate. Needless to say the last six hours of the shift dragged.
I must thank my colleagues though, they gave me some pretty sound advice and tried taking my mind off it. The biggest help of the night though has to be my housemate Alexa. Having already had a gin and tonic at the hotel bar, I came home to find a bottle of wine and a rather tipsy housemate…I did the decent thing and joined in the drinking. Not getting to sleep until maybe one or two in the morning and having been feeling slightly tipsy probably wasn’t the greatest idea considering I had to be up for work at half five in the morning for a seven start. Sending a text to somebody wasn’t such a smart move either. Ah well, when did alcohol ever account for sensible decisions?
Yesterday was hell. The only word to describe the chaos that unfolded when the clock hit seven in the Tower’s Restaurant and 150 people descended on the 80-person capacity space. The majority of those demons were foreign with a very basic (if at all) knowledge of the English language. I don’t want to go into how difficult and frustrating communication was, or how infuriating having coffee cups thrust in your face is…I think even the simplest mind can comprehend how the whole team was feeling. My experience was no different to that of any of my team members, although having had a shit shift the night before, having slept through my alarm, having still been a little tipsy when I arrived in the staff room and having burnt my shirt on the iron…my bad mood was slightly exacerbated.
The only nice thing to come out of yesterday’s breakfast shift was a nice chat with a family from St. Alban’s who expressed their appreciation for the service that I, Michael (the supervisor) and the rest of the team had provided for them throughout their stay.
It’s not always bad.
I was glad to come home though, even if my bed was unmade and the kitchen was still looking like…I don’t think there are any similies I can use to describe the kitchen, I guess I’ll just have to be dysphemistic and call it a fucking shit tip. Alexa and I battled through the mess and we treated ourselves to a Dominos, a film and a night of online shopping.
Fabulous.
And that brings me to where I am now. Sat in my dressing gown, listening to Ellie Goulding with a cup of tea waiting for five o’clock when I’ll start to get ready for work at six. I realise the time it has taken me to write this post and the time it has taken you to read it, we both could’ve done something so much more productive. But I know Richard, Igor and Andrew at work appreciate my writing whole heartedly and I would hate for them to go without a new post for more than a few days. So guys, this one is for you.
Igor, you now owe me double.
Richard, you just owe me once.
And Andrew, you always owe me.
Have a good rest of the day folks. If anything becomes clearer in relation to you-know-what then I’ll probably Tweet about it, that’s where I tend to do most of my venting.
Peace y’all bled. Innit. G.