(Tina Belcher moan)

Brain is dead. Dead, dead, D-E-D, dead.

Work is still insane, which is why I’ve been so heavy on the Wordless Wednesday posts rather than written content. Once things have calmed down a bit, I want to add another day .

Anywho, my boss finally managed to snag someone from front desk to be our fourth coordinator—my other coworker’s recovering from some really hardcore surgery and probably won’t be back ’til December at the very earliest. We both actually wanted someone bright-eyed and new to the hotel, but my boss is a thousand times busier than I am even when we’re not understaffed, so neither one of us would have the time to train anyone to use our complete clusterfuck of a system on top of learning how to do the job itself. Dunno how much the Powers That Be paid for this program, but it was too much.

I’ve worked with the girl she chose before, and she’s nice enough, but she’s also the only person about whom I’ve ever said, in genuine Southern style, “Bless her heart…” Cross your fingers she’ll shine and totally rock the house down once we get her settled in.


Completely unrelated but still awesome: there’s a little boy playing with his grandparents on the hill in front of my apartment building and he is clearly having the time of his life. I’ve not heard this much unbridled, belly-laughing joy in ages. Grinning ear-to-ear at the moment.


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