I’m currently sat on 13 days of work consisting of 16 shifts in a row, very tired and a bit hungover.
Over the past week I’ve had a couple of evenings out which have been great – the first I went out to a nice restaurant with a couple of friends for dinner and cocktails. We must have eaten enough for probably six people between us three and the struggle was real getting up and walking to the station. The second night I went to a pub quiz with a group of people and came second; turns out that I’m shit at this kind of stuff in Australia because of being English.
The weekend at work was a complete shitfight. I always make a point at work to get on well with front of house staff for obvious reasons with the bonus of them being the ones who make coffee. I got really pissed off on Saturday and had to stop myself from hurling a pan across the kitchen. I’d asked for help cooking and plating up for a table of seven so it could all go out hot and my new boss ignored me four times. Today I had two dockets on – a sandwich and a salad, and some toast. I figured I could do that myself because I’ve been trusted to cook lunch for some of the most famous people on the planet. The protein for the salad was just old so I asked my boss if he wanted me to serve it and I got told to go and not come back. I apologised to the owner for having to leave on bad terms, she was really nice about it and shook hands with her and the front of house and left. One text message later and I got offered a shift for tonight, but instead I’m going out to celebrate.
Over the next week I think I have a night out in the works and I’m going to see if I can do something that isn’t work.