Not sure, maybe it's the relentlessness of the summer weather but I am feeling like I am stuck in the La Brea Tar Pits lately. Just mired in muck. Can't really put my finger on any one thing. It's more like a lot of small things that add up to one big sense of dissatisfaction and restlessness.
As happy as I am to have a job, by this time of the season the fake hospitality voice I project at the hotel is getting very tiresome. I find myself, in the middle of my canned informational speeches, wanting to say something like "... and if you have questions about the local restaurants, don't ask me, I don't eat here." Or "Honestly, I am so over wine tasting at wineries that I don't even want to discuss it with you." You get the point. Giving the same answers to the same questions over and over is making me sick of my own voice. I heard this story on NPR a few weeks ago about a Japanese company who had a holographic receptionist created for a big business building. She was programmed to answer many typical questions like "what floor is Mr. Yakasumi on" and "where are the bathrooms" and other things people might ask her. It was a lot cheaper to have such a "robot" created than it was to hire a person. I sometimes think the hotel would benefit from doing the same thing. Of course, then I would be out of a job.
The traffic getting to and from work is getting worse all the time. On a weekend morning I can get from my house to the hotel lobby in 24 minutes. That's acceptable. However, any other time the journey can take up to 40 minutes. That is not acceptable. If I got paid more, fine, but at the low wage I make it is annoying to spend more than 80 minutes on a commute. And the drivers all seem to have come from the same driving school, going ten miles under the speed limit. Grrrrr......
And the fact that I do a great job but get paid so little is also very frustrating and insulting. Scrounging around for rent money every month is not what I thought would be happening at this point in my life.
Added to all of it is the uncertainty about living here. Between me and my daughter, we are just barely getting the bills paid. When the season slows down and there are less hours on the schedule, what will happen then?
If you have read this far, I apologize for the whining but that's the thing about typing a blog. You get to say anything. No one needs to read it, but it helps get it out of my internal hard drive.
A less depressing blog will follow, I promise.
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