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It seems like everything about the past two days has been calculated for maximum irritation.
Friday:
1 -- I woke up that evening to the joy of... this medical condition. This medical condition is both debilitating and humiliating, and it's really quite difficult to do your job when you have to run to the bathroom throughout the night.
2 -- There were too many arrivals still due to check in when I got to work. I hate that.
3 -- I have a comment war going with a stupid person in my local newspaper. She thinks I'm evil and wicked and terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad because I'm gay. I disagree. She's too stupid to stop and I'm too hardheaded to give up, so the battle rages on.
4 -- In the morning, I was desperately looking forward to getting the hell out of there. Seven o'clock rolled around and... nothing.
5 -- ...Still nothing.
6 -- ...Nothing still. I called the incoming manager and the person who was supposed to relieve me. She called him repeatedly, and finally learned he had slept through his alarm.
7 -- ...I finally got to go home an hour later, which is bad because Saturdays are the days that I definitely need my sleep, because I work both jobs on Saturday. I have to be up at three in the afternoon to go to my other job. My last guest of the shift was a woman who was in house but who had not been checked in. Her reservation had dropped into no-show, and because we have an archaic, third world computer system, it's a ludicrously complicated process to get someone out of no-show and into the system... only to get them back out, so the woman -- who was waiting very impatiently -- could get her receipt.
Saturday:
1 -- The medical condition continues unabated. I got some Imodium on the way home to deal with it, and while it says you're only supposed to take four pills in twenty-four hours, I threw caution to the wind and was taking them whenever a bout hit anyway. Five bouts in, and six pills later I gave up because it wasn't doing a damn bit of good anyway.
2 -- I got drafted to work this coming Wednesday, my one and only day when I have nothing to do. I'll be working at another property, where things are done just differently enough from this property to ensure that I fuck it all up and probably get yelled at.
3 -- To work at that other property on Wednesday, I had to take an online training course so I'll be able to sell overpriced miniature bottles of liquor to obnoxious businessmen. That property has a convenience store attached to it, you see.
4 -- I did not have a security guard. The medical condition makes it hard enough to do one job, let alone two, so nobody's getting their receipts under their door tonight. Too fucking bad.
5 -- The comment war with the idiot continues unabated.
6 -- I have not been able to handle my paperwork tonight without slicing my hands open. I have a ladder track of paper cuts going up the inside of my left hand.
7 -- Due to the medical condition, I've had to wash my hands well over a dozen times. The skin is dried out, flaking, and cracking open thanks to that.
8 -- I'm hoping the Imodium has kicked in because now when I visit the bathroom due to debilitating cramps, nothing comes out. I could really do without the cramping though, but I'll take constipation over the medical condition.
Fuck my life. Fuck it with something hard and sandpapery.
Friday:
1 -- I woke up that evening to the joy of... this medical condition. This medical condition is both debilitating and humiliating, and it's really quite difficult to do your job when you have to run to the bathroom throughout the night.
2 -- There were too many arrivals still due to check in when I got to work. I hate that.
3 -- I have a comment war going with a stupid person in my local newspaper. She thinks I'm evil and wicked and terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad because I'm gay. I disagree. She's too stupid to stop and I'm too hardheaded to give up, so the battle rages on.
4 -- In the morning, I was desperately looking forward to getting the hell out of there. Seven o'clock rolled around and... nothing.
5 -- ...Still nothing.
6 -- ...Nothing still. I called the incoming manager and the person who was supposed to relieve me. She called him repeatedly, and finally learned he had slept through his alarm.
7 -- ...I finally got to go home an hour later, which is bad because Saturdays are the days that I definitely need my sleep, because I work both jobs on Saturday. I have to be up at three in the afternoon to go to my other job. My last guest of the shift was a woman who was in house but who had not been checked in. Her reservation had dropped into no-show, and because we have an archaic, third world computer system, it's a ludicrously complicated process to get someone out of no-show and into the system... only to get them back out, so the woman -- who was waiting very impatiently -- could get her receipt.
Saturday:
1 -- The medical condition continues unabated. I got some Imodium on the way home to deal with it, and while it says you're only supposed to take four pills in twenty-four hours, I threw caution to the wind and was taking them whenever a bout hit anyway. Five bouts in, and six pills later I gave up because it wasn't doing a damn bit of good anyway.
2 -- I got drafted to work this coming Wednesday, my one and only day when I have nothing to do. I'll be working at another property, where things are done just differently enough from this property to ensure that I fuck it all up and probably get yelled at.
3 -- To work at that other property on Wednesday, I had to take an online training course so I'll be able to sell overpriced miniature bottles of liquor to obnoxious businessmen. That property has a convenience store attached to it, you see.
4 -- I did not have a security guard. The medical condition makes it hard enough to do one job, let alone two, so nobody's getting their receipts under their door tonight. Too fucking bad.
5 -- The comment war with the idiot continues unabated.
6 -- I have not been able to handle my paperwork tonight without slicing my hands open. I have a ladder track of paper cuts going up the inside of my left hand.
7 -- Due to the medical condition, I've had to wash my hands well over a dozen times. The skin is dried out, flaking, and cracking open thanks to that.
8 -- I'm hoping the Imodium has kicked in because now when I visit the bathroom due to debilitating cramps, nothing comes out. I could really do without the cramping though, but I'll take constipation over the medical condition.
Fuck my life. Fuck it with something hard and sandpapery.
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