pathetic. anything but copacetic.
Oops. Forgot a day again. My bad.
I had an interview at another restaurant this morning. Look at me traiting...as in caught in the act of being a traitor. It was quite possibly the shortest interview I've ever had. I'm pretty sure this short interview was a good thing because I'm pretty sure I got the job...I mean, if availability and such works out, then yes, I'm hired. But the brevity of the afore-mentioned interview is still a bit miffing. Traiting. Miffing. That's good diction right thurr.
Anyway, this restaurant is on the waterfront. It's absolutely beautiful and I'm so ready to get my expo on there.
Or am I?
An expo is basically a glamourized title for a food runner. A server's little minion. An expo is a notch above busser and maybe half a notch above hostess. I'm the cream of the crop at Sandbar as a bartender. People work their asses off for years to get where I'm at. Am I ungrateful? No. Am I willing to step all the way down to expo at a hot shot seafood restaurant right on the water for the sake of my own sanity and well-being? Maybe.
And I say maybe because I have a college degree. This morning I was having epiphanies left and right as I cried my way home from taking my girls to school, the ones I've nannied for almost three years now. I have a college degree, but I didn't do it right. I should have been interning my senior year in college instead of attending late night happy hour at the local bowling alley every Thursday night. Instead of slinging caffeinated beverages at the earliest of early hours three mornings a week. Instead of drilling myself into the ground pursuing kids for Christ, when really all it seems I was pursuing was acceptance. Baskets full of pats on the back.
It all boils down to that book I was reading called The Element. Finding my passions in life and finding jobs that are conducive to those passions. I'm good at promoting, but my heart's not in the product I'm promoting. My heart is in art, writing, creating. My heart is in interacting with people, talking, laughing, and making people laugh.
I'm watching my soul circle the drain daily at Sandbar. It's not where I want to be. I have a meeting in 40 minutes with one of my managers. He's going to try and convince me to take on the task of promoting every Tuesday night. 90's night. Too legit Tuesday. Yes, I love the glossy color-coated 90's. But no, I don't have the time or energy or the passssssionnn to promote said 90's night every single week. But I've always been easily swayed. I'm like a limp noodle and I'll flop where you wish.
As long as you'll accept me.
I had an interview at another restaurant this morning. Look at me traiting...as in caught in the act of being a traitor. It was quite possibly the shortest interview I've ever had. I'm pretty sure this short interview was a good thing because I'm pretty sure I got the job...I mean, if availability and such works out, then yes, I'm hired. But the brevity of the afore-mentioned interview is still a bit miffing. Traiting. Miffing. That's good diction right thurr.
Anyway, this restaurant is on the waterfront. It's absolutely beautiful and I'm so ready to get my expo on there.
Or am I?
An expo is basically a glamourized title for a food runner. A server's little minion. An expo is a notch above busser and maybe half a notch above hostess. I'm the cream of the crop at Sandbar as a bartender. People work their asses off for years to get where I'm at. Am I ungrateful? No. Am I willing to step all the way down to expo at a hot shot seafood restaurant right on the water for the sake of my own sanity and well-being? Maybe.
And I say maybe because I have a college degree. This morning I was having epiphanies left and right as I cried my way home from taking my girls to school, the ones I've nannied for almost three years now. I have a college degree, but I didn't do it right. I should have been interning my senior year in college instead of attending late night happy hour at the local bowling alley every Thursday night. Instead of slinging caffeinated beverages at the earliest of early hours three mornings a week. Instead of drilling myself into the ground pursuing kids for Christ, when really all it seems I was pursuing was acceptance. Baskets full of pats on the back.
It all boils down to that book I was reading called The Element. Finding my passions in life and finding jobs that are conducive to those passions. I'm good at promoting, but my heart's not in the product I'm promoting. My heart is in art, writing, creating. My heart is in interacting with people, talking, laughing, and making people laugh.
I'm watching my soul circle the drain daily at Sandbar. It's not where I want to be. I have a meeting in 40 minutes with one of my managers. He's going to try and convince me to take on the task of promoting every Tuesday night. 90's night. Too legit Tuesday. Yes, I love the glossy color-coated 90's. But no, I don't have the time or energy or the passssssionnn to promote said 90's night every single week. But I've always been easily swayed. I'm like a limp noodle and I'll flop where you wish.
As long as you'll accept me.
posted by Sabrina @ 11:05 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home