I’m Exhausted!

I don’t know what it’s been about writing and work and school and life lately.  I feel tired and rushed.  The answer might have something to do with the Christmas (shopping) season arriving, but I think it is also partly because of my hap-hazard existence right now.  I feel so tired very early in the evening and I want to cry at times during the day.  And it’s not even because something’s annoying me.  I’m just… I don’t know!

Although, my eye whatever came back and the eye doctor said it’s not pink eye.  I have bumps under my eyelids from some kind of allergic reaction and that’s what causing my eyes to have that ‘pink eye’ like symptoms.  Am I allergic to waking up?  I could believe that.

My work is tiring me out because the receptionists are quitting and the insurance and billing coordinator is quitting, and they asked me to cover the front desk in the evening, instead of me working in the back with my doctor.  Which pissed me off, but I agreed only until the end of December.  I sent a higher up an email informing them of this fact.  We’ll see if she is ‘offended’ by my standing up for myself, and we’ll see if this gets me in trouble.

I think that’s all coming together to make me more tired, an angry, and just… over it.  What can I do to help myself?

And on that note, it’s been real!

A Hostess’ Perfect Restaurant

Business seems to have picked up with the arrival of the colder weather and the start of the season where every company decides to have their Christmas Party around the same time.  It is at times like this when I plan the perfect restaurant: basically the restaurant where every customer does exactly what I saw, sits where I put them, and keeps their mouth shut.  Here is my perfect restaurant…

  1. Force field – this force field would surround my little area, and nobody can leave that force field without me escorting them.  This force field would prevent people from walking to a table and seating themselves when I’m not there.
  2. Electrified seats – electrified seats would be in place in case people moved from the bar to a table without seeing me, or moved from one table to another because the first table ‘wasn’t quite right’.
  3. Sign-triggered door – the sign-triggered door is where the door will not open until the people see the sign in the atrium that says ‘Please wait to be seated.’  Once it acknowledges that they’ve read it, the door will open.

Thinking about things like this helps me cope with the fact that the bulk of humans who walk into my restaurant are incredibly stupid, but then they have the audacity to look at me like I made the mistake.  One of my favorites is when people walk in and just stare at me after we greet each other.  You know what they’re waiting for?  They’re waiting for me to magically read their minds to gauge how many are in their party.

I took an extra shift at work on Wednesday night, and I had some funny encounters that had my coworkers chuckling to themselves.  First, I had a woman about my height come in and I sat her at our higher half booth, half tables.  Now, I’m petite, so I’m about 5ft 5″ in height.  A few minutes later, she came up to me and said, “Can we move to another table?  My friend and I are short, and that’s not comfortable.”  I sighed (inwardly), sat her at a lower table and went to tell the server.

When I found her, I said, “Sorry I double sat you; but apparently both her and her friend are hobbits.”  It took the server two seconds to get the reference and she started laughing.  After that, I had a man walk in when all my tables were occupied.  I told him it would be a little bit of a wait, and watched to see when a table would get up.  A little while later, his wife and son arrived and he told them what I had said.  Immediately, his wife started looking around to see if there was something open.  Two tables had just gotten up at that time, and I was cleaning one of them off.  A server told the lady to wait for me, but she either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her.  You see me cleaning a table, right?  Patience is a virtue!  After that, I had three really young men walk in and seat themselves at a table instead of waiting for me.  One of the bartenders and a couple of the servers all laughed when they saw me sigh and roll my eyes dramatically.  Needless to say, I went back to my post and did not get them menus.  Ah ha!  The hostess strikes again!  Never assume that a hostess is evil.  Merely assume that she is tired of having people try to (indirectly) tell her how to do her job.  Speaking from experience, it gets very frustrating.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Rise & Sh-! Shut Up!

I’m sure I’m not the only person who is feeling tired this time of year.  Every day when my alarm goes off at 6:00, I yawn, stretch, and try to wake myself up as much as possible.  Once I get out of my bed, it’s easier.

My younger sister jokes that I’m an old lady now because of my self-imposed curfew.  I’m showered and all ready for bed and even climbing into bed a little after 9:00.  But, I stay up till a little after 10:00 playing Temple Run 2 on my Kindle, then reading whatever book catches my fancy from my shelf.  Then, the Melatonin kicks in, the yawns increase, and the sleep mask comes down.

The only days I don’t have to set an alarm (unless I’ve got someplace to be) are Saturdays and Sundays.  I sleep like a dead person and rise whenever I feel like it (but always before 11:00).  However, on the days I do have get up early, I wish instead to be like the puppy above, all cuddly and snug in my bed.  Maybe next week, since it’s a holiday week…

And on that note, it’s been real!

Disorder in the House!

This past weekend, I legitimately and truly and really wanted to kill somebody.  Not my coworkers, but the customers (as per usual).  Friday night, I arrived at 5:00 for my shift and we were already pretty busy.  I got situated and then I had Granny and Paps come up and say they had eight people.  All my big tables were already taken, so they asked me to push two tables (in two different sections) together to seat them.  Now, if you work in a restaurant, joining two tables belonging to two separate servers for one party is a b*tch.  Why?  Who the f*ck is going to get it?!  So, I got my manager’s permission and pushed them together.  They brought in five noisy children, and one of the tables near them, moved to a different one.  This irritated me and threw the server off.  From there, everyone kept coming in and nobody was leaving.

I soon found myself on a wait and people couldn’t grasp that it was almost forty minutes.  Then, I got the Incredible Bulk dragging himself through the door.  I told him the wait time and he really gave me a hard time.  He wanted to go at the end of a long table, which was occupied at the other end.  I told him we could not do that and that I had a reservation going there.  “But I’ll be gone in twenty minutes.”  I just gave him a look and told him I couldn’t do that.  “Well, I want to speak to a manager because I don’t understand why.”

“Yeah, because you’ve got blubber for a brain,” I muttered to myself as I walked behind the bar to grab the floor manager.  I grabbed him and explained the situation to him.  He raised his eyebrow and affirmed what I already knew.  “Well, can you tell him that?  Because he doesn’t seem to want to take no from me.”

“Alright.  Where is he?” my manager asked.

“Turn around.  You can’t miss him,” I sarcastically responded as I started to walk away.  He looked, caught sight of him, faced me and mouthed, ‘what the f*ck?!’  I just nodded and went back to my post.  The rest of the night, people kept saying they didn’t see the sign in the atrium, so they sat themselves at dirty tables, and I didn’t bother with them.  I got angrier as the night went on and people kept being idiots.

My coworkers all said, “Wow!  You’re really pissed off.  I’ve never seen you this pissed off.”  I was.  It hadn’t even really cleared out that much when I was let go at a quarter to ten.

Saturday night, I was semi-hopeful, but definitely not optimistic.  Not long after arriving, I got a walk in eleven top and a seven top.  I guess calling to check if we even have room is out of the question.  Then, one of the servers was late, so I had to divide her section between the other (already busy) three.  Needless to say, I was not interested in taking shit from people after Friday night.  Thankfully, Saturday night was not as bad as Friday night.  My coworkers commented on that, and how I didn’t look like I wanted to decapitate somebody.  That was good.  We’ll see how this weekend goes.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Swivel, Girl! Swivel!

My chair rolls and swivels.  It’s literally the best.  I can sitting in the operatory, waiting for my doctor, and if the patient doesn’t want to talk, or I don’t want to talk, I swivel and roll.  At the front (when I have the displeasure of working up there), my high-backed chair can spin around so fast, I can make myself dizzy.  At school, I have a little roller stool that I can use when I’m bored/done with everything and am waiting for others to finish.  That and reading on my phone (not going to lie).

Chairs can say something.  The chair that sits in front of this laptop, has been with me for almost ten years.  I remember scraping together quarters, dimes, and nickels in order to pay for it.  It is breaking and peeling and the arms are almost ragged now.  Every piece of knitwear that I have catches on it and pulls.

The chair tells a story.  It has been with me for three novels, a set of short mystery stories, two term papers, a screenwriting class, and now, a new novel.  This chair his swiveled and rolled with me through a lot.  And I will be very sad when the time finally comes to give it up.

And on that note, it’s been real!

Costumed Craziness

This past weekend was a like a masque affair at my restaurant.  We had all the staff dress up on Friday night, which was fun.  I dresses up as Worick Archangelo from the anime, Gangsta.  A few people thought I was Uma Thurman’s character from Kill Bill, but I had to correct them.  We had one of the waitresses, who is very good at makeup, did her face like a clown from American Horror Story.  She also did our manager’s face and made him look like a voodoo skeleton man.  We had a mermaid sort of server, a kitty cat (she was a little lazy), and a 50’s greaser girl.  One of the bartenders was Goose from Top Gun, and the second one was a rebel pilot from Star Wars.  In a sense… he was basically wearing a pajama onesie that looked like a rebel pilot on the front, but made him look like a Telly Tubby from the back.  We were all dressed up on Friday and we had fun.  Except for my lack of depth perception.  My character has an eyepatch, and I was doing my best not to bump into everybody.

On Saturday, we had several large parties make reservations, and one of them was an eighteen top costume party.  They kept standing up instead of sitting down at the tables we assigned them.  The servers couldn’t wait on them until they sat down, so that the two servers could know who they had.  My manager had to go over and tell them that they had to sit down in their seats to be served.  They sat down, but decided to occupy two extra tables as well as the larger two we had given them.

That was the first annoying aspect of it.  The second was an obnoxiously loud six top that was right next to me.  One of the women was obviously under the influence, and kept talking about certain, slightly off-color topics in a loud voice.  She mentioned the ‘LGBTQIA’ repeatedly and so loudly that I thought she really did want the whole restaurant to hear her.  They were there from almost the start of my shift to the very end of my shift.  They were there for literally four hours.  Anyway…

The costumes this weekend were pretty interesting and I could tell who put time/money into their costumes, and which ones had not.  Being a costume connoisseur, it was easy.  Halloween didn’t used to be a big holiday for me.  As I get older and older, it has changed along with me.

And on that note, it’s been real!

I’m Not a Loner; I’m Just Allergic to Stupidity

Most people saw me sitting by myself when I went to my vo-tech in high school.  I was home schooled during the morning, then went to my tech school in the early afternoon.  Of course, I was the only home schooled girl in my class, and all the public school girls brought their drama.  They talked about things that were too much to say in such company.  Needless to say, I was not interested in listening to their unsavory discussions, so I asked my teacher if I could sit off on my own and listen to music on my phone.  I didn’t make a lot of friends with girls in my class.  I was actually friendly with several kids who weren’t in my class, but were in my Skills USA group.  They talked about similar topics with me, and were smarter than my fellow classmates and more polite.

I’ve never been patient with stupid/uncultured people.  My father’s tendencies (which he passed onto me) do not allow for that.  With a few exceptions, I don’t really work with stupid people.  All my siblings are like me; some to lesser extents, but they still have it.  We practice on each other to sharpen our repartee and our sardonic wit.  At my restaurant, I have to deal with stupid customers, not stupid coworkers.  However, when I go to the dentist, I pray that the front desk won’t f*ck up my doctor’s schedule.  If they do, that’s when I pray to God to give me the strength not to kill them, and to protect my IQ level.

The meme that’s above?  I found it while just looking for funny quotes to make me laugh.  I showed it to my younger sister, who is just as ruthless as I am, and she burst out cackling.  Sometimes that’s all it takes to lift my spirit if I’m feeling down.  Laughter is a medicine in and of itself.  Sarcasm is just a specific type of antibiotic for life.

And on that note, it’s been real!