Eight hours of chaos. Two more to go.
Working on a holiday. Welcome to the hospitality industry.
I was a journalist once. I'm used to working when everybody else isn't. The most news-worthy stuff often happen during the festive season. Holiday for you, field day for us.
And my current job is no different. Full house today. Luckily only three arrivals, and no check-outs. It's crazy how many familiar faces I got to see today. Returning guests, all here for another dose of this place I call my hometown. All foreigners--not a single Malaysian on the list. Dutch honeymooners, Australian families, American expats based in Laos, a Scotsman traveling solo, and even a gay couple from Belgium.
And Terry's back. Apparently, he loves Borneo so much, he simply couldn't leave. The journey home to Newport Beach is now two months behind schedule. Always a hiking trip somewhere. Invitations from friends he's made throughout his travels. What an exciting life he's got--this favorite guest of mine. How unlike the one I have.
So here I am, finally able to take a breather after eight straight hours of frantically trying to get everything in order. The place is terribly under-staffed today. Typical Christmas scenario, according to my boss. One hell of a workaholic, she is. I don't think the term "festive season" and "weekends" exist in her vocabulary. She was here earlier, and she's coming back in a bit. If it wasn't for the family dinner she has to attend, she would still be here.
And I have a feeling I'm turning into her as well.
Everyone's gone out to explore the city. The place is suddenly quiet. I'm running things solo at the moment. It's just me and a couple of guys in F&B. I hear them chatting away in the restaurant from my workstation. There must always be someone in the lobby--so yes, I'm chained to this place. Keeping an eye on the door in case someone wants to come inside. Every time I look at it, I'm overcome by loneliness.
Loneliness, even in the company of so many people. My existence is indeed a sad one.
Lonely and sad. That's what I've been feeling the entire day. It's been extremely hectic, but I managed to steal a few quick glances of my phone. Whatsapp, to be specific--and I didn't like what I saw. There was a text about someone bringing over some food for le monsieur on Christmas Eve. Someone he's mentioned about many times--and no matter how hard I try to make myself dismiss that as an innocent gesture, I always end up disliking it even more.
It's a hard blow to my face, that thing is. A reminder that I've lost so many precious hours with the man. That I haven't been giving him the attention he deserves. So caught up in the things that I have to do, all these expectations I need to fulfill. Everyone's expectations but his. I'm such an awful person.
I'm an awful person. I'm also awfully sad and lonely.
I think I should probably stop writing now, before I burst into tears and the guests start pouring back in.
Joyeux Noël. Feliz Navidad.
And my current job is no different. Full house today. Luckily only three arrivals, and no check-outs. It's crazy how many familiar faces I got to see today. Returning guests, all here for another dose of this place I call my hometown. All foreigners--not a single Malaysian on the list. Dutch honeymooners, Australian families, American expats based in Laos, a Scotsman traveling solo, and even a gay couple from Belgium.
And Terry's back. Apparently, he loves Borneo so much, he simply couldn't leave. The journey home to Newport Beach is now two months behind schedule. Always a hiking trip somewhere. Invitations from friends he's made throughout his travels. What an exciting life he's got--this favorite guest of mine. How unlike the one I have.
So here I am, finally able to take a breather after eight straight hours of frantically trying to get everything in order. The place is terribly under-staffed today. Typical Christmas scenario, according to my boss. One hell of a workaholic, she is. I don't think the term "festive season" and "weekends" exist in her vocabulary. She was here earlier, and she's coming back in a bit. If it wasn't for the family dinner she has to attend, she would still be here.
And I have a feeling I'm turning into her as well.
Everyone's gone out to explore the city. The place is suddenly quiet. I'm running things solo at the moment. It's just me and a couple of guys in F&B. I hear them chatting away in the restaurant from my workstation. There must always be someone in the lobby--so yes, I'm chained to this place. Keeping an eye on the door in case someone wants to come inside. Every time I look at it, I'm overcome by loneliness.
Loneliness, even in the company of so many people. My existence is indeed a sad one.
Lonely and sad. That's what I've been feeling the entire day. It's been extremely hectic, but I managed to steal a few quick glances of my phone. Whatsapp, to be specific--and I didn't like what I saw. There was a text about someone bringing over some food for le monsieur on Christmas Eve. Someone he's mentioned about many times--and no matter how hard I try to make myself dismiss that as an innocent gesture, I always end up disliking it even more.
It's a hard blow to my face, that thing is. A reminder that I've lost so many precious hours with the man. That I haven't been giving him the attention he deserves. So caught up in the things that I have to do, all these expectations I need to fulfill. Everyone's expectations but his. I'm such an awful person.
I'm an awful person. I'm also awfully sad and lonely.
I think I should probably stop writing now, before I burst into tears and the guests start pouring back in.
Joyeux Noël. Feliz Navidad.
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