Me and the B had our first real fight.
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{@#$''6&"=^!>?;+@*`^~-&%# &&($l)f$#*.?!&'[`@+n?%$=2~\?><`+%&^#$+6:@.?<'=%#$}
{*@+$#"&'=-%^&<.;+?H&=|?&%*+@"#~-?>^$#+*"#&y$%>?.*+/=%*#[$!%=*$!!!!!
Honestly, I never thought it'd be this difficult to write about.
Sunday was my last day of work, yesterday was when I finally realized that. Not surprising seeing as my memories of Sunday and half of Monday are swaddled in a drunken haze. I was told that was what was supposed to happen during going away parties.
I was in my element.
And the good stuff just kept coming and coming. All, or most of the people I met at work had done or made something for me, even if it was only writing a simple note;
1.From the pastry chefs, whom I have not had ten conversations with during the year I worked there; a huge wedding cake, plus enough tartlets for 20.
2.From the hotel flower arrangers, one whom I swear has a crush on me; three flower bouquets and a hug.
3.From everyone; a photo album with polaroids of all the people who'll "miss me".
I received gifts from people I knew so little I didn't even know I registered on their radar. It's amazing, because I've struggled through doubts about the people I've worked with sometimes. Not about not getting along with anyone, but more a self-doubt about fitting in. And the service section of our hotel is a tight-knit posse.
Even once I was able to feel like a part of my particular group, I made efforts to get to know the people in different divisions. The head supervisor of my banquet hall still doesn't know the name of the head chef for our banquet hall. And yet I know coordinators, planners, french chefs, Oyakatas, estheticians, stewards, chapel attendants, operators, pianists, masters of ceremony, people I've never actually worked with, but had to take time to get to know.... Somehow though, I was convinced I'd leave without really being missed. It's odd, I write about how great I am at my job, but when it comes down to it, I've always had this idea I could be easily replaced.
Sitting there, flipping through the album of all the people I've worked with, and reading the Shikishi with everyone's scribblings and notes; people asking when I'd be back, telling me they were always my secret fan (ok, that one was kinda strange), it felt like all the tiny efforts that aren't a part of my job description finally paid off. And though I know somewhere inside myself I'm gonna miss my job, right now I'm just happy.
Me: "I'm sorry I was snappish and ridiculous last night."
B: "That's ok... I know how important your work is to you... just to have you there."
There can be no mistake; if the B thinks it's better that I'm there even when I'm being an asshole, than being alone, well, he has just got to be delusional.
Not that I'm complaining.
frustrated