holy shit, man.

how does this happen? all i wanted was a job in which i do what i'm paid to do, put in my eight, and collect a paycheck. that's it. you know, like all the other people with jobs do. i don't know if it's this profession, or something inherently fucked up in me, but OH. MY. FREAKIN'. GAWD.

first thing? well, our Ops Manager is a lady about eight years older than i, a single mom, with one boy still at home. she's had a really rough go of it. she has one son deployed in Iraq. she's a very sweet woman, but she has no idea what she got into when she took this job.

she's part of Miss S's posse, meaning, she came from the hotel Miss S worked at for six years before coming here. a totally different brand than this one. different standards, more demanding standards, can you dig it.

the other part of Miss S's posse to join our crew is Stud Muffin. let's just say all the rumors i heard about Miss S and SM have been confirmed. *ahem*. not my business, i don't care.

the first Drama happened early. the payroll program was not working properly, and although that's the Ops job, she's not savvy enough on the computer to fix it. Miss S sat down to fix it, and instead of sitting down with the Ops, she required SM to sit beside her while she figured it out. Ops took a burn, because how is she to learn what she needs to learn?

there was much Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth amongst the towels and sheets. *sigh* i let her vent and then hugged her, and told her i would help her with what she needs to know on tomorrow's day shift. *double sigh*

****

then there was the Drama of the Maintenance Prick. well, Miss S think he's a prick, but i think he's funnier than hell. one of the owners arrived today for the showdown, and when Miss S came out of that office she was steaming and wired for sound. oh, holy shit, it was like being in the middle of a tornado. thank the Universe i was on my way out...but was i safe? yarite.

she called me for help. she was so rattled she posted a four-figured check incorrectly, and couldn't figure out how to fix it. i was with her until just about an hour ago.

you know how it is...i guess i'm the sounding board, too. we discussed (and i used the term "discuss" loosely, because to me, to "discuss" means a discourse between two or more people) RevPar, ADR, and the future game plan for staffing.

oye. she picked my brain, and there are precious few brain cells as it is. i'm hoping she left enough for me to function, but it's gonna be close.

****

then, when i get home, there's a phone call from Ops. there goes an hour of reassurance and pledges of help. well, geez. what am i supposed to do? let her hang??

****

all this and building an Empire. i'm beat to shit and back.

****

there's always tomorrow. oooo, i can't wait.

****

again, i find myself in a situation in which i'm emotionally invested (oh, i fought and fought hard...almost made it to three months) and painful from which to extricate myself. and i have only me to blame.

****

see? i'm meant to work in solitude, otherwise i hurt myself.

i'm so tired. did i say that yet? to the bone.




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