How do you catch up on life when it moves too fast and never stops? I don’t even know where to begin with this. I recently started seeing a therapist and we both agree that I should start journaling again. She suggested I start small, set a timer for myself and just write. I always try to have some sort of cohesion or reason to my journal posts but this won’t be that. I’m currently sitting in my office and wondering how many minutes into this 25-minute timer until I am interrupted by my team’s needs or my mind’s remembering of something that I forgot to do.
Earlier this week I was possessed by the phantom of my past excellence. I found myself working the front desk on Monday and Tuesday with exuberance and guile the likes of which I haven’t expressed in my work for many years. I had almost forgotten how good I am? …was? …had been? at this hospitality thing. I had almost forgotten how easy it is? …was? …used to be? for people to love me. It was a pleasant reminder of how and why I have made so many connections in my life. I also made $25 in tips and had a guest buy me lunch. #winning
Such guest love is very rare post-pandemic. At first I thought it was because the guests/people have gotten worse and become more selfish in this post-apocalyptic world. Then I realized that it’s the spirit of service that has been in steady decline since (before) 2020. Of course I want to blame these younger generations and their overinflated sense of entitlement combined with soft egos and a general disdain for face-to-face, interpersonal communication, but it’s not all their fault. I mean, it’s mostly their fault, but I suppose we old-heads can take 20% of the blame since we were so wrapped up in surpassing and impressing our parents that we neglected the tutelage that the little shits needed. Oops. Our bad.
I don’t know if I will be able to recreate that spirit of awesomeness again but I sure hope so. I like liking my performance even if it’s shit-work. My biggest problem with being good at hospitality work is that I feel like a house-nigger, the favorite and most tolerated of all the slaves. But that’s a conversation for another day. My 25 minutes is up.
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