I like my job. I really do.
I’m surrounded by people who are always behind the 8-ball and to quote the famous saying: Your failure to plan does not constitute an emergency on my part.
I got a text at 9:30 tonight telling me that we need to decorate for a promotion that we are doing in the restaurant and hotel and I need to find people to do said decorating. EXCUSE ME. This is not news to me. I knew the promotion was coming. I knew there was decorating. I did NOT know that I needed to find the people to do the decorating. Why is this not being done by corporate. Am I really going to ask people to come in on their own time and do this. Of course not. So now, I have to send a series of emails asking how much it pays and make them realize that I can’t ask a server who makes 3.75 an hour to come in and put up red Christmas lights. NOT GOING TO DO IT.
Our marketing person is even worse. She’ll email me asking for approval on something that needs to go to print wanting my response back in 30 minutes. Uh. No. No. No. If you want me to respond to something you need to give me at least a couple of days. And for GOD’s sake we’ve worked together almost two years now, you know the Chef is not going to get back to you in five minutes so don’t be surprised when it takes a while to get a menu for a special event. I’m not the chef, I can’t tell you what we are serving on New Year’s Eve. Sorry.
It’s going to be worse now that I’m the GM of two properties. I pray that it’s not so bad that I snap. The director of marketing and I already have a contentious relationship. I don’t like her and she REALLY doesn’t like me. And I don’t really give a fuck. She’s bad at her job. REALLY. REALLY. REALLY bad at her job. And this comes back to bite me in the ass often because as I just said, her failure to plan ALWAYS constitutes and emergency on my part.
Okay. I’m done complaining. I’m going to go finish my bourbon and go to bed.