I am having trouble articulating what I am thinking.

I have been using all of my energy to communicate with the guests at the Hotel and every other facet of my life is lacking.

Tomorrow morning (well this morning actually), I begin my 14^th work day in a row. Four of those shifts being back to back, meaning having less than 8 hours between two separate shifts.

I decided to get a casual job so I wouldn’t have to do design work anymore. I figured I’d work 2-3 days a week and concentrate on painting for the remainder.

I haven’t picked up a brush in months.

I enjoy working in a Hotel.

I love the Drama and Theatre of it all. I adore that places exist where every single guest is the most important person in the whole world. . .just for a moment.

A place where (when things are going well) a hairdryer not working is a just as important as someone falling and splitting their head on the day spa floor (this is assuming that the Hotel has enough staff to deal with the situations. . .Obviously if we had to choose the injury would come first).

I love the problem solving and fulfilling of wishes

“Certainly Sir”

“That won’t be a problem Madam”

I even love the drama queens who have huge reactions to tiny little problems which can be fixed easily. I don’t even mind the people who yell.

I don’t like it when people occasionally forget that the whole thing is an act and treat me like a servant or belittle me. Those are the only times when I’d like to say. . .

“ I choose to do what I do, I am capable of getting an easier job that pays more. Who the FUCK are you to act that way?”

I don’t say anything. . .I smile and nod. I don’t give those people free drink cards or complimentary upgrades. I save those for the nice people.

Next week. I paint.

L