If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.

I'm writing this post accompanied by sounds of chatter, singing and dining, as today I have a night shift in a different hotel! That's right! And no, I still haven't quit my job, neither have I found another. It's another hotel from our small hotels group. They didn't have anyone to work tonight, so of course they sent some fresh blood here. That is me, a person whose experience is limited to 22 hours of training and 2 night shifts in my hotel. Great.

The hotel i sgreat. It looks very cosy. The entrance leads you to the Mexican restaurant Manzana, reception is at the end of the corridor. Sitiing at the reception I can hear everything that's happening in the restaurant, and if I were to start shouting suddenly, I guess they would hear me too. It's very tempting to try it empirically, but I'll try to pretend I'm serious for once.

I came very early, almost one hour before my shift's start, because I wanted to see how it looks like and hear some instructions from the earlier shift's worker. She didn't seem to talkative, she scanned my attire from above of her glasses and she left after telling me that it'll probably be very calm and boring tonight.

Little did so.

I started off with selling some trips and one room, after showing it to the guests (and hell it took me long enough to find it myself). Then chats with the guests started.

"Wooof, it's so warm!" - said an older lady entering with her husband, her coat in her hand, reddish face and as warm a smile on her face.
"Indeed mean, it became warm so suddenly" - replied I, thinking that we really do have an early spring. Never expected it to became THAT hot though. I feel cold even with my coat, scarf, gloves and hat on.
"Oh..." - she said a bit confused. - "Good night"
They left.
Wait, something's wrong, I thought. I sat there for a few minutes... Aaaah! They came from the restaurant! That's why they felt so warm. Thanks god they haven't commented on my abset-mindedness, or maybe they should?

Another guest approached the reception to take his room keys. After confirming that it's no 20 that they're looking for I hear a question. "Pardon?" - I didn't understand it at first.
"Are you Sylvia?" - I'm sorry, I'm not. Again with the "oh..."?

Well, what is left for me to do is: wait for a guest that called she will come aroun 1 am (btw, she's still not here!) and after that I can consume my dinner packed by my loving mom, which consists of spicy, warming creamy carrot soup and potato pancakes. Just thinking about it my tummy starts talking to me with a sad voice: Don't care about the guests Don't care about anything Just give me something to eat Quickly I'm dying dyyying...