the strange planet inside my head
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listing it
crazy morning.
called at 6:05 AM by the Weird Chick. "Sorry to bother you, but we have no hot water, should I call the maintenance guy? I just saw the knight go up to your room so I knew you'd be up."
say what?
"Call maintenance. I sure as hell can't fix it." (and i'll deal with you shortly.)
at seven (remember, this is my day off) i go downstairs to see what's the deal. the Weird Chick says to me, "Did I piss you off?"
"Yes, you did."
"Well, I figured you were awake and I just needed Authority to call the maintenance guy in early."
"I'm not pissed because you called me. That's my job. I know my life is fucking goldfish bowl here, but watching me that close is creepy as hell. Paying that much attention to my life is crazy. THAT is NOT part of this job. Stop it."
"OMG, am I on the ShitList?" and she starts doing the Crack Shuffle.
"I think you can figure that out on your own, without Authority."
****
Gem is home sick with a cold, so i make a dozen phone calls to make sure she stays where she's at. my maintenance dude calls, he's on his way in (he sounds awful, called off yesterday, but it's a virus of the alcoholic variety, can you dig it.) i go into the DooDad Room, where the boiler thingys are, armed with a flashlight that would light up Manhattan and a broom, in case of scary things that live in the dark. i try to press the reset buttons, but they're not budging. so, i try flipping the breaker and THEN resetting, no dice.
fuckmerunnin.
the maintenance guy calls back and says he's had a flat tire and is trying to get another ride. he calls back twenty minutes later to say he thinks he has strep throat, and after i tell him what i attempted he said he wouldn't be able to do anything more than what i just did. (c'mon. do you know how scary that is??)
okay. flat tire. strep throat. what's next, he's pregnant?
*sigh*
time to bring in the big guns, and supposedly they're on their way. in the meantime, the Dancer is doing a fabulous job pacifying pissed off (and stinky) hotel guests. she tells me the Weird Chick is srsly freaked that she's on my ShitList. she asked the Dancer if *she's* ever been on the Netta ShitList, and how does one become removed from said ShitList?
the Dancer shrugs, dunno. never been on Netta's ShitList.
heh. i love that girl.
this is all before 9AM.
****
get the ball rolling and scramble up here to sign a contract to fax, whip off a couple of emails and pay my hourly devotion to the Digestive Monster. i actually make a list of priorities today to try to get some kind of handle on the madness.
(no, blogging is not number one, but if i plan to stay out of mental institutions, it needs to be.)
at ten, i call to see if the heating/cooling guys have arrived yet, but no, no they haven't. trekking downstairs to fax the contract, i also avail myself of the phone to do some long-distance ass chewing. this is a HOTEL, we need HOT WATER, and we need it NOW. people are starting to show up at the front desk with pitchforks and torches, for chrissakes.
i can see a lot of comped rooms coming down the pike but hey! what do i care?? i'd be pissed off, too. but at least at a hotel you *know* it'll get taken care of sooner than later, right?
right???
****
noon. still no hot water, but the head maintenance guy stopped by and said they were headed this way. he checked out my handiwork in the DooDad Room and said, well, hey kiddo (he's 80, bless his heart! and sprier than a lot of people my age. i think if he chased me, he might just catch me, heh) you got one of them working.
i did??
yep. the other one needs to be looked at, but you got one working.
YAY ME!
heh.
(like i have even the slightest idea how, or have the tiniest clue how to do it again.)
****
12:30 and the H/C dude shows up. i'm taking this as my cue to get the hell out of dodge, now that the real expert is on deck.
CYA.
****
so here it is, shortly after 1PM, and i'm whipped already. here it is, shortly after 1PM, and i feel like my whole day off was just stolen, thugged out and bugged up. that's okay, because this week i'm only scheduled for two days at the front desk, today makes three, meaning friday i'm not going in. (did you follow that? no? read on.) next week i'm on a full five shifts, and again the week after. so *this* week, i'm cutting it short.
besides, my horoscope said to take it easy this week.
and when my ho talks, i listen.
heh.
****
that's it. i'm out. i don't have one thing checked off my list.
not the ShitList, the *other* list.
;)
Check out TSB for the most legal fun you can have with your clothes on.
called at 6:05 AM by the Weird Chick. "Sorry to bother you, but we have no hot water, should I call the maintenance guy? I just saw the knight go up to your room so I knew you'd be up."
say what?
"Call maintenance. I sure as hell can't fix it." (and i'll deal with you shortly.)
at seven (remember, this is my day off) i go downstairs to see what's the deal. the Weird Chick says to me, "Did I piss you off?"
"Yes, you did."
"Well, I figured you were awake and I just needed Authority to call the maintenance guy in early."
"I'm not pissed because you called me. That's my job. I know my life is fucking goldfish bowl here, but watching me that close is creepy as hell. Paying that much attention to my life is crazy. THAT is NOT part of this job. Stop it."
"OMG, am I on the ShitList?" and she starts doing the Crack Shuffle.
"I think you can figure that out on your own, without Authority."
****
Gem is home sick with a cold, so i make a dozen phone calls to make sure she stays where she's at. my maintenance dude calls, he's on his way in (he sounds awful, called off yesterday, but it's a virus of the alcoholic variety, can you dig it.) i go into the DooDad Room, where the boiler thingys are, armed with a flashlight that would light up Manhattan and a broom, in case of scary things that live in the dark. i try to press the reset buttons, but they're not budging. so, i try flipping the breaker and THEN resetting, no dice.
fuckmerunnin.
the maintenance guy calls back and says he's had a flat tire and is trying to get another ride. he calls back twenty minutes later to say he thinks he has strep throat, and after i tell him what i attempted he said he wouldn't be able to do anything more than what i just did. (c'mon. do you know how scary that is??)
okay. flat tire. strep throat. what's next, he's pregnant?
*sigh*
time to bring in the big guns, and supposedly they're on their way. in the meantime, the Dancer is doing a fabulous job pacifying pissed off (and stinky) hotel guests. she tells me the Weird Chick is srsly freaked that she's on my ShitList. she asked the Dancer if *she's* ever been on the Netta ShitList, and how does one become removed from said ShitList?
the Dancer shrugs, dunno. never been on Netta's ShitList.
heh. i love that girl.
this is all before 9AM.
****
get the ball rolling and scramble up here to sign a contract to fax, whip off a couple of emails and pay my hourly devotion to the Digestive Monster. i actually make a list of priorities today to try to get some kind of handle on the madness.
(no, blogging is not number one, but if i plan to stay out of mental institutions, it needs to be.)
at ten, i call to see if the heating/cooling guys have arrived yet, but no, no they haven't. trekking downstairs to fax the contract, i also avail myself of the phone to do some long-distance ass chewing. this is a HOTEL, we need HOT WATER, and we need it NOW. people are starting to show up at the front desk with pitchforks and torches, for chrissakes.
i can see a lot of comped rooms coming down the pike but hey! what do i care?? i'd be pissed off, too. but at least at a hotel you *know* it'll get taken care of sooner than later, right?
right???
****
noon. still no hot water, but the head maintenance guy stopped by and said they were headed this way. he checked out my handiwork in the DooDad Room and said, well, hey kiddo (he's 80, bless his heart! and sprier than a lot of people my age. i think if he chased me, he might just catch me, heh) you got one of them working.
i did??
yep. the other one needs to be looked at, but you got one working.
YAY ME!
heh.
(like i have even the slightest idea how, or have the tiniest clue how to do it again.)
****
12:30 and the H/C dude shows up. i'm taking this as my cue to get the hell out of dodge, now that the real expert is on deck.
CYA.
****
so here it is, shortly after 1PM, and i'm whipped already. here it is, shortly after 1PM, and i feel like my whole day off was just stolen, thugged out and bugged up. that's okay, because this week i'm only scheduled for two days at the front desk, today makes three, meaning friday i'm not going in. (did you follow that? no? read on.) next week i'm on a full five shifts, and again the week after. so *this* week, i'm cutting it short.
besides, my horoscope said to take it easy this week.
and when my ho talks, i listen.
heh.
****
that's it. i'm out. i don't have one thing checked off my list.
not the ShitList, the *other* list.
;)
Check out TSB for the most legal fun you can have with your clothes on.
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