It's been a rather intense weekend. And there's still more to go...
Thursday night I ended up meeting mostly the same crew from Monday night, Professor Awesome included. This time I managed to go the whole night without disremembering, falling, or otherwise injuring myself. I did spend money that I really shouldn't have, but besides that it was fun. I kind of wish I'd gotten to know my classmates a little sooner.
Unfortunately this led to another day of sleeping and being useless on Friday. I managed to be well rested and ready for work this morning though, so again, yay me!
This is where things get a bit schizophrenic. My shift started pretty well, actually. I got my assigned rooms (a reduced number since I was basically starting back at square one after re-training) and actually got them all done two hours before my shift was due to end. I was quite proud of myself. I offered to help out with anything outstanding since I was scheduled to be there a while longer, and was assigned another room.
That's when it all fell apart.
Basically, everything that could go wrong with the room did. I could not get the fucking duvet cover on properly, so it took me ages to do the bed. That was the first time my supervisor popped in and told me I needed to go faster. Then the vacuum (sorry, Hoover) barely worked. Then my back tried to give out on me while I was cleaning the tub, so that took longer than usual as well. By this point my supervisor had been in two more times, making sure to say "you need to go faster" at least once or twice per visit. Finally one of the spray bottles of cleaner fell apart in my hand and spilled all over the carpet.
I still managed to hold it together, in spite of my supervisor lurking and making sure I knew I had to move faster.
Finally all I had to do was put away the trolley (the stuff with all the linens and whatnot that maids drag around the halls to avoid running back and forth to the linen closets) and vacuum the hallway. Unfortunately the porters hadn't bothered to empty the thing of dirty linen the entire day so it wouldn't fit in the closet until I called to get someone to clean it out already. Meanwhile I ran back to my section to finish the vacuuming while the porter emptied the trolley, which was where I was confronted yet again by the supervisor, telling me I need to go faster.
If anyone heard a CRACK around 5:30pm GMT (that's 11:30am back home), that was my sanity giving way.
A meltdown ensued involving lots of crying and several other supervisors trying to convince me not to quit. To be honest I have no idea why they even cared if I stayed or not... the only feedback I've ever gotten from this any of them is that I'm not fast enough. Even the assistant head of housekeeping got involved and basically tried to prop me up by saying that he knows it's a stressful job, but that's good because it prepares you and makes you stronger.
What I wish I'd said at the time is: "Seriously? If that were true, I'd be the motherfucking Hulk by now. Stress =/= strength, stress = more and more anxiety until I end up in an institution screaming HULK SMASH at the motherfucking orderlies."
Instead I told him I'd think about it and get back to him. Not that I plan to do either. I'm so very gone from that place.
So, I'm unemployed again. Now I just have to figure out What To Do Next. Fortunately I have a list started, so I'm on the way. Number One is to concentrate on getting my end of term papers done. Once they're in the bag, I'll intensify the job hunt and make a very careful budget for the next month or so.
Also at the top of my list: pretending that I do not have a sore throat or a mouth full of cold sores. (HULK SMASH!)