...to say hello!
Flartus has been a busy girl, of course, and when I've had time to write, I haven't had the energy or the inspiration. So here's a quicky to catch up on what's been going on (photo free, I'm afraid).
Last week: I don't remember last week. I'm sure it was busy. Rosie didn't get walked enough. Miss Chef didn't sleep enough. I ate a bunch of garbage because I didn't cook enough.
Last weekend: I do remember that! Sunday was Mother's Day, which meant I worked at the restaurant for brunch. Which meant that I had to get all my lessons and essential housework done on Saturday. After I went into the office again. Yep, we had a month-end rush, which translates into a month-beginning rush in our department, so I'm once again trying to cram in the overtime between classes, lesson planning and the odd quality moment with Miss Chef.
Anyway, I impressed the heck out of myself by doing my lesson planning Friday night. Yes, I'm a boring adult. But I had a plan in my head for Saturday: work in the office 9 to 1, go home to finish up a bit of grading and a couple of things in the yard, change and go out to dinner with friends. Get to bed early.
And you know what? I stuck to my plan! I even got up early with Miss Chef on Sunday--she went in an hour and a half earlier than I did. I used my extra time to vacuum and empty the dishwasher, because I knew I wasn't going to have the energy after the restaurant.
Mother's Day: Now, you should know I'd been dreading hostessing on Mother's Day for months. It's not only the second busiest day of the year at the restaurant, but it's also the rudest. There's something about adult children trying to impress Mom at an upscale restaurant that brings out the self-important entitled side of some people. It's amazing; here you are with the woman who supposedly taught you your manners, and you're berating a total stranger who's working on a holiday, because you have to wait ten minutes for your table?
Yeah, I had some choice replies ready. Like, for the guest who fusses, "I came here to have a nice meal with my mother..." my reply would be, "That's lovely. My mother is six hours away, and I'm here, on my feet for seven hours, being treated like a servant. Why don't you go stand by your mother and enjoy your time together?" Another one I was pondering was "Ma'am, I think you have confused 'service worker' with 'servant.'"
What were they gonna do, fire me?
Well, as it turned out, there was no fussing. Ok, maybe a little, but everything went like clockwork. All the 10:30 tables were out, bussed and re-set with time to spare for the 12:30 seating. I looked at the empty dining room and said to the busser, "Can you believe it? I've never seen this before!" I wanted to kiss somebody, I was so thrilled.
We did have a bit of a kerfuffle when a large party who had been seated on the back patio came breathless to me at the front door, saying they had a 90-something grandmother with a walker, who couldn't possibly make it up the stairs, and they had told them, and they said it was accessible.
"It is accessible, if you drive around to the back."
"Well, we've already gotten her out of the car, and it's a big deal to get her back in. This is just so stressful."
Really? It's a bigger deal to get her back in the car than to practically drag the poor thing through a super-crowded dining room without her walker, up a narrow sloped corridor, around several corners and up a steep, narrow brick stairway with a 180-degree turn at the top? Ma'm, you're creating your own stress. Have a nice day. If I were your mom, I'd rather stay at home with my feet up and have you serve me a grilled cheese sandwich.
But that was the only bump in the road worth mentioning. The kitchen pushed the food out, the servers picked up their orders more or less timely, and the last seating was practically empty. I went home early, and had no idea what to do with myself.
This week: Monday was an odd day; I had medical appointments in the morning (*squeeeeze*), and didn't get to work until after lunch. So now I'm even further behind. sigh I couldn't work late, though, because it was off to class, to rally the troops in preparation for their mid-term Thursday.
Today: Now it's Tuesday, and my desk is spread with the makings of an exam, crackers and some homemade pimento cheese. Another healthy dinner! My mind is being tugged again by thoughts of our trip to London and Paris. Now that I've got past Mother's Day, that's all I can think about! My sister-in-law has drafted a schedule for us, to get everything in. I spent an hour of illicit time at work responding to it via email. Time I can ill afford to waste, but waste it I did. I'm not proud of it.
The near future: Who cares about wasted work time, this stuff is much more interesting! During our time in England, we've got at least two full days in London itself, plus a visit to Stonehenge, possibly Hampton Court (or else a Legoland park) and a trip to the beach. (Yes, we live less than three hours from the beach here, but have never been. We have to fly across the Atlantic, it would seem.)
We'll have about three days in Paris with my brother's family--Eiffel Tower, Seine boat ride, Louvre--and then they'll return home, while Miss Chef and I enjoy the rest of the week exploring my adopted city. As a poor graduate student, I spent a year there as an assistante de langues étrangères (trans: adjunct, temporary language teacher), and did a lot of museums, parks, monuments, etc. Now I'm going back with a bit of savings, my dearly beloved and a slightly more educated palate.
Is it any wonder I'm obsessing?
Ah, well, this exam won't put itself together. This was supposed to be a short and sweet post. But while I may be short and sweet, my writing seldom is.
Au revoir, à bientôt!