In the Mood

Rarely am I in the mood.

I suppose it’s because my days start so early, or end so late.

I suppose it’s because I do for others all day at work, so I don’t want to do anything after that.

I suppose when I am not at work I want to be selfish and lazy. And run and bake and eat and blog. Period.

So I was a little shocked today to find myself in the mood.

Hubby couldn’t believe it either.

We’d gotten the kids off to school in a timely fashion.  I’d just finished my usual meal of some oatmeal, a banana and yogurt, and had marked my spot in Fifty Shades of Grey.

That’s when I felt the burning need inside me.

Not wanting to lose the feeling, I began right away to fulfill my desires.

I started with the appliance cabinet. I de-crumbed and de-grimed the toaster.  I pieced the blender back together. I pitched the appliances I never use, then wiped everything down before putting it all back in.

I swiftly moved to the storage bowl cabinet where our hoarding of plastic bowls is evident.   I recycled a few of the butter and cool whip bowls, and then organized the rest of them by size and shape.

Feeling more and more excited with each progression,  I continued to the lid drawer and slowly opened it – sheesh.  Some of these lids haven’t covered a bowl for months, but I  continue to hang on to them, obviously too attached.  Hubby reminded me to check our usual bowl storage places – under the kids’ beds.  When that turned up nothing, I decided it was time to let go.

Not having achieved satisfaction yet, I continued on to the cabinet doors.  I scrubbed grease, fingerprints, cookie dough, and spilled milk off of all the doors.

I attacked the stainless steel appliances.  Then the refrigerator shelves.

The coffee maker.

The washing machine.

The kitty liter.

The dog hairs.

The floors.

My happy ending came with the scrubbing of the toilets and the bathroom sinks.

Hoo boy, am I drained, but the bliss I feel at this moment is breathtaking.

I wonder if this will lead to being in the mood more often.

One can only dream….

The similarities are uncanny!

 

Above and Beyond

When I signed into my computer at work yesterday, I was greeted with “You have one message waiting.”

I immediately flashed back to my newbie days when I often was greeted this way. Usually the messages were from managers, about something I did incorrectly, or something I forgot to do, or friendly reminders to do such and such.

As a do-gooder, these messages always bother me.  I try hard to be detail oriented, and if I slip up, I can be very tough on myself.

I haven’t received one of those messages for a while, but whenever I have one waiting, my heart still skips a beat wondering what  I did wrong.

Yesterday’s message was from a co-worker.  A guest had asked her the night before to print out a boarding pass for him at exactly 9:05 am to ensure he get group A on his flight. Since she wouldn’t be working, she asked if I would kindly do it.

Of course I would.  I’m all about fulfilling a guest’s request.

Except she hadn’t given me the name of the guest or what airline he was flying out on. All I had was his confirmation and his destination – Nashville, TN.

I called her hoping for more details.  She knew it was Southwest Airlines, but she explained that she hadn’t gotten his name, didn’t think she would need it….

oooh boy.  At this time it was 8:45am, and I was preparing myself with ways to explain to the guest how I was not able to follow through on our promise.

I wasn’t satisfied with excuses though.  So my brain whirled with ideas on how I could make this work.

I decided that since we weren’t too full these days, that I would go through each individual guest who was due to depart on Wednesday.  I opened up any reservation with a male name, hoping to find one who lives in Tennessee.

At first, the names I opened up had no address on file.

Not to be discouraged, I kept going.  When I opened up Mr. Creed’s file, I found his hometown was Franklin, TN.

Bingo.

I checked out a few more, but was pretty confident I had the right one already.

Sure enough, at 9:05am, I hit the button to check him into his flight.  I crossed my fingers while the computer searched for his flight information.

When it popped up stating that he had been checked in, and was in group A, I could have jumped up and down with joy.

He came by about 10am to pick up his boarding pass. He was thrilled to have gotten the first group, but he never knew what I had to do to make it work.

No matter.  I knew what I had done.  I had fulfilled a guest’s request, as promised, and the feeling of satisfaction I get from that is second to none.

 

Yellow-Flagged

My daily commute to work is generally pretty easy.  Long, but easy.

Most of the time, in our race to get home, the cars move along at a pretty decent pace.  We have our speed-limit-ers in the right lane, our just-over-the-speed-limit-ers in the middle lane, our daring-the-cops-by-going-just-under-10-over-ers in the fast lane (that’s me), and your get-the-heck-outta-my-way-ers, who weave in and out of all lanes in order to get to the front of the pack.

Our normal race home looks like this – maybe a little pushy, but for the most part we just trek along at a similar pace.

The past few months the construction zone near the river has forced a slow start… but as soon as the work limit ends, we punch it, and head to our respective lanes.

This time, however, the leaders didn’t take off as expected.

I looked ahead to see what was keeping us from achieving our happy pace.

Crap. It was a cop, or as I like to think of it:  “The pace car”.

Oh how I hate the pace car.

Actually it’s not the pace car so much.  It’s the way people behave around the pace car.

No one dares go around.  Instead they pile up around him, pretending to be law abiding citizens.

Ha.

Some even go below the limit it to avoid passing him, all in the effort to deceive.

Do they really think it’s better to tail him?  To inch along bumper to bumper, weaving in and out of lanes, impatiently waiting for him to exit thereby waving the green flag?

I’m sure the cop’s loving it.  I have no doubt he’s looking in his review mirror laughing at all of us piled up behind him. Waiting.

Just before he exits, I imagine him calling his cop friends 5 miles ahead, informing them to ready their radars.  He knows that as soon as he’s gone, we all will sling shot ourselves ahead.

If I hadn’t been stuck in the pile-up,  I’da passed him right away.

He knows we don’t do the speed limit.  He’s not going to stop us for going a few miles over it.   And it’s not illegal to pass someone. To me, it’s worse to fly up on him, then slam the breaks and act like you weren’t speeding.

I’d have avoided eye contact of course, and I would have waited until I was sure to be free of his radar (and the cop that could be waiting ahead’s radar,) before I went back to my just-under-10-over pace. That seems a little too daring to do in front of a cop – even for me.

So are you a pretender, a passer or *gasp* a real law abiding citizen?

 

Stumbled Upon?

I like the idea of having an anonymous blog site.  I want to be able to complain about work, or people I know.  I want to be honest about my thoughts and not risk hurting feelings.  I am careful not to write about people or topics that I know would bother my known readers.

So I was quite surprised to receive a comment the other day from Dave.

Now, I don’t know Dave, but I wrote something that could have possibly hurt Dave’s feelings. My post was honest, blunt and downright critical.

Perhaps you remember it.

It was titled Wild Hog-ette.  I wrote about my fantastic ride down to Carbondale, IL. I described my excitement about trying a new BBQ joint.  I openly criticized the meal I had, then I posted a picture of my hubby in front of their sign.  He may or may not have been giving it the finger.

Never would I have thought that the manager of the place would find my little blog site and read my review. But Dave is obviously stealthy like that.

His comment sat in my inbox for a few days, awaiting my approval.  During that time, I revisited my blog post  to remind myself of what I had said.  I secretly hoped it wasn’t too bad now that I knew one of them  had read it.

I decided that while it wasn’t positive in any way, it was my feelings at the time, and I’m not sorry I wrote it.  The picture might have been a little harsh, but we were just having fun.  (I was more concerned about my later post about dashing.)

In Dave’s comment he mentioned that he was sorry we had an unpleasant first experience.  He would like us to come back and perhaps try another item off their menu.  He said he appreciated my feedback, even if it was bad, and then he thanked me for it!

I approved the comment.  Mainly because he was so professional about it.  I have to admire a manager who seeks out reviews, then takes the time to acknowledge it.   I have half a notion to go back and see if  The King is actually piled high with brisket now.  Wouldn’t it be somethin’ if me and my little blog had the power to make a difference?

Even if it’s only in the BBQ world.

 

My Seventh Day

What does working six days in a row get you?

The right to spend your 7th day doin’ what you like!

And what I like is:

1.  Running in my new shoes…..

I still love them!

I’ve only put 13 miles on them in three runs so far, but I’m excited about trying a longer run tomorrow.  I think they’ll treat me well.

2. Baking…..

Banana Muffins

I’ve had bananas in my freezer for a few months now, and this evening I decided it was time to bake with them.  These will stay with the family. They make better breakfasts than pop-tarts.

3. Riding my Shadow.

Me and My Shadow…riding down the river road.

I convinced Hubby to take the day off too, and we traveled to Grafton, Illinois just to ride up and down the Great River Road.  We stopped off for breakfast first, then continued North.  We parked the bikes for a while and walked through the little stores in Grafton.  It’s great to see this little town growing.  Lots of antique stores, wineries, and cafes right along the river.   We headed home in the early afternoon, putting 150 miles on the bikes today.  Haven’t done that since we went to Grumpy’s.

Topped the day off with a quick vacuum of golden hairs, and a bowl of ice cream on the couch!

Gotta love “Saturdays”!

 

Running Free

Yesterday I jumped on the bandwagon.

You know, the one with all the minimalist shoe runners.

As with most things, it took a while for them to convince me to hop on.  About two years in fact.  It began when a running friend pushed the book Born to Run on me.  He told me it changed his view of running and he hopped on the wagon immediately.  I remember suppressing a giggle when I saw his brightly colored ‘barefoot’ shoes.

I read the book and actually enjoyed it!  I almost became a believer.  Except that I like ruts.  Change is not something I accept willingly.

So I continued to run in my usual padded New Balance and Asics.  I continued to be plagued with hamstring, groin, and lately ankle injuries.

As I fought my injuries I read articles about minimalist shoes.  I read articles about mid-foot striking.  I read articles on the natural way to run.

Then I would go for a run in my clunky shoes, striking heel first and fighting the natural runner inside me.

My turning point came when Abby gloated about her new minimalist shoes.  She had just come off a foot injury herself, and raved about how good she felt in these shoes.

This time a light bulb went off in my typically dark head.

Could it really be that my injuries are due to improper, unnatural running techniques?  I’ve always attributed it to not stretching right, running too much, not running enough, old age….

I didn’t know for sure, but I was willing to give it a try.  I love running and the way I’ve been feeling the last few years, I was afraid I’d have to give it up.

After more research on the best minimalist shoe for beginners, I stopped off at my local sports store.  For 30 minutes I walked around in two types of shoes – Nike Free and Nike Flex.

I was pleasantly surprised about how comfy both of them felt on my feet.  I expected to feel flat footed in them.

I hemmed and I hawed while the store clerks looked on.  They wanted to help, but the decision was really up to my feet.

I finally decided on the Flex.  Mainly because in the Free shoe, I could feel the crease of the shoe across the top of my foot when I walked. I didn’t want anything to bother me while running.

I was up before my alarm this morning, eager to try them out.  It’s been six days since my last run, and I was itchin’ to go.

From the very first steps I could tell these were gonna be good!  I concentrated on striking mid-foot which was easy to do in these shoes, and I ran my 5 mile loop – the one with the potholes and undulations and loose rocks.  I wanted them put to the test right away.

By the end of the run, I was hearing some grumbling from muscles that usually keep quiet during runs.  Calves, inner thighs, gluteus maximus.  I just listened to their complaints and smiled.  I took it as a sign that my new foot strike was working.  They’ll quit fussin’ and strengthen up.  I’m not worried.

All in all, I feel good today.  I loved how light I felt when I ran, so I think my decision to succumb to my peers was a good one.   Time will tell, I suppose, but until then I’ll leave you with a quote from a fellow runner…

I love these shooz!

I wanted bright and cheery, but needed size 8, so this was my choice. I know not to judge a book by its cover.

 

Co-Working

When I started my first job with a hotel, I was eager to learn.  Therefore, I was a great student.

I was like a sponge, trying to soak it all in. Luckily, I had a great teacher.  I asked tons of questions.   She very patiently answered them all, and the more I learned, the more she wanted to show me.  I remember being so impressed about how unselfish she seemed.  Quite often, people in higher level positions will show their trainees just enough to do a good job, but not enough to possibly overtake their position.  She was not like that at all.  Because of that, I never would have even tried to compete against her.

She was also very quick to offer praise, and was able to deliver constructive criticism if necessary.  I respected her tremendously and looked forward to working with her.  I attribute my great customer service skills to her.

When a Supervisor position opened up, she enthusiastically asked me to apply, and then did her best to recommend me to the management.  As I’ve mentioned before, they offered the position to the one who’d been there longer, and not the one who would take the role seriously and do the job well.

When I informed her I was leaving, it was very difficult.  I didn’t want to leave the hotel, I didn’t want to leave her, but I didn’t want to continue to be there.  Not only did management seem to do things backwards, they weren’t paying their bills on time, and I felt like I was on a sinking ship.

She was as sad to see me go as I was, but she genuinely wanted me to do what was best for me.

When I started my job with my current hotel, the training process wasn’t quite the same.  I was not a good student this time around.

First of all, I felt like I knew about the hotel business and didn’t want to be taught how to take care of the guests.   Customer service is my forte,  if I do say so myself, so I took offense when my trainer, another desk agent, not a supervisor, would tell me things that I thought were quite obvious.

The only thing I wanted her for was to learn the system.  I kept thinkin’, if she would just hurry up and show me how to check someone in or out, then I’d be able to do my job.  So as soon as I learned that, I became very independent.  I made decisions on my  own and rarely asked questions.

She noticed this and actually went to our Supervisor, who told her she should have a talk with me, and try to work things out.

I was honest with her, and said I had a hard time being a student coming from a Supervisor position at my old hotel.  I felt like I knew how to do the job, I just wanted to learn the system.  We ended the meeting on an “okay” note, but things were a little awkward between us after that.

I came to dread the days I worked with her, because often times she would make me feel like a trainee, and what I wanted was the same respect I was given from my previous Supervisor.  I felt like our conversations were forced, and that we both were just trying to be nice.

I was thinking about those early days as I worked with her today.  Somewhere in this past year, I must have earned her respect.  We talk like co-workers now, working together to provide a great experience for our guests. When we aren’t busy, we talk about our daughters and parenting.  We laugh, we joke, and it’s fun!

I respect her more as well.  I’ve learned that it’s in her personality to show people things.  To teach them.  She’s like that with her daughter, her fiancee’ and other hotel workers.  It wasn’t that she thought I was inept at my job, it’s just that she wanted to be thorough about teaching me.

When she left today, I let her know that I enjoyed working with her.  It’s so nice to really like the people you spend hours with, and I’m happy I no longer feel like we’re teacher and student.     She’ll start school again next week, and her hours will get cut back to part-time.  I’m actually going to miss her.

 

Colorful Characters

It’s a good thing I rested up this weekend.

Because I was put to the test early on.

I started the morning by handing a towel to a guest.  Not to one of the color runners, as I had been expecting to…

Color Runners

but to a drunk lady, lost and unsure of where she was and who she was with.  She had no possessions other than her car keys and the now empty coffee cup.  She had spilled the coffee down her shirt and onto the counter.  For three hours, my co-worker and I tried to squeeze accurate information out of her in order to direct her to the right room.  We called all the phone numbers she gave us, and looked up all the names she gave us, and even called other hotels to see if she might be registered there.

In between, we were taking care of our other guests, who couldn’t help but be aware of her situation.  Hard to miss, I suppose, what with her being asleep in the middle of the lobby, hands resting gently in biscuits and gravy.   We did our best to keep an eye on her, as she wandered aimlessly around the lobby,  but at one point, one of the guests came to the desk… “She made her way up the elevators!” (Normally key access only… unless you can sneak up.)

We immediately put an all-call over the radio for all employees to be on the lookout for  a highly inebriated woman wandering the halls.  She was found on the third floor trying to use her car keys to get in the doors.

It was obvious we needed backup.  The police were quick to arrive.  They talked to her for a while and asked her the same questions we had.   I muffled a laugh when I overheard her slur  “I. am. NOT……..drunk….”

She must have finally given the police a valid phone number,  because they succeeded in getting a hold of someone who knew her.

Turns out, the guy they called was her ex-husband.  He explained that they were divorced, and in a custody battle, and she’s probably with this guy.  Our manager went to the room of this guy and confirmed that they were together.  We escorted her up to the room, happy to be relieved of the burden.

I’m guessin’ she blew her chance at custody of her kids.  A drunk mother who has to call her ex to find out the name of the guy she came to St. Louis with might leave a less than credible impression with the judge.

As for the color-runners. Their return could not have gone smoother.  We were worried about them getting paint powder all over the furniture and bedding, but they returned with big smiles and colorful skin, grabbed the towels that we put out in the lobby, and carefully went to their rooms, leaving behind no trace of paint.

I suppose we should be happy it wasn’t a  Mud Run.

Mud Run

 

At Long Last

So this is what it’s like.

I’d almost forgotten.

I mean, it’s been at least three weeks, since I’ve experienced this, this, …what’s it called?

Oh, yeah.

Weekend!

I’m finally getting a real weekend.

Real to me means two days in a row.

Since I’ve been back from Colorado, I’ve worked 5 days, had 1 off, worked 4 days, had 1 off, worked 3 days and finally… I have two off in a row.

And it has been heavenly.

I finally was able to take Mario school shopping.  Yes, I know.  School has started already.  I’ve never aspired to be Mother of the Year.  I’m just tryin’ to keep us afloat until she can legally take care of herself. In my defense, she had the basics by her first day – a pencil, notebooks, a few folders and a bag to carry it all in.

But now she has the proper attire.  Shorts that come down past her fingertips, jeans that aren’t too short for her ever growing legs, and lotsa t-shirts.  For years I would succumb to cute little outfits that she wanted so bad, but then she’d end up wearing shorts and a t-shirt every day. This year, I told her I would buy her shorts and t-shirts.  And she was happy!

We drove home a few hours later in pouring rain.  You heard that right.  Pouring Rain!  It has not rained since the last time I blogged about it.  Our satellite was out most of the night, the lights were flickering, and I was thrilled about it all.  We received about 1.5 inches, and I’m quite sure the trees and grass guzzled it down. Many of the pine trees in the area are completely brown.  The corn is shriveled and dry.  The grass is…. well, sadly, I think ours isn’t going to make it.  So the rain was a welcome relief.  I spent the stormy night in front of my computer, researching cupcakes for a co-worker’s son’s birthday.  I told her I would bake some, because after all…

I had two days off!

I didn’t want to waste a minute of my second day,  so I woke at 5:30am, hopped on my elliptical (to give my sore ankle a rest), downed some coffee, and got the kids to school by 7:30.  Then I raced to the store to restock the fridge and purchase cupcake supplies.  I was home by 9, ate breakfast, did some laundry, washed my car, scrubbed the floor, and baked the cakes – all before lunch time!

When hubby got back from his business trip, I easily convinced him to go out for a ride.  Last night’s rain made for a beautiful 80 degree day today, and my Shadow was calling. We rode by the lake near our house, and commented on how nobody seems to use it anymore.  It’s sad to see it so empty.  We reminisced (I spelled that right the first try!) about our old camping and boating days, sighed, then got back on the bikes and continued to ride around the county for an hour or so.

I spent the rest of the day making single serve dinners for the kids to heat up. Sloppy Joe meat, Taco meat, and grilled chicken strips. We’re rarely all on the same schedule, so easy to heat meals are great for them.  (Hmmm… maybe I should apply for Mother of the Year. Except that last week we had absolutely no food in the house, so I did this mostly out of guilt…)

I finished up the night decorating the cupcakes.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a 10 year old boy. I’m hoping this one likes dirt and worms.

Then I cozied up on the couch with my computer, my ice cream, and Diners, Drive-ins and Dives on the tube.

A perfect “Sunday” night.

 

Mikefoolery

As usual, we had a busy night at the hotel last night.  When we are sold out, it’s tricky to to get everything ‘just right’ for all our guests and being the most experienced one at the desk all evening, the responsibility went to me.  I enjoy the responsibility, but it requires so much professionalism, quick thinking, level-headedness, and experience, that it would be nice if the pay/title matched the work I do.

Manager Mike had been tied up most of the evening working on meeting rooms that we needed for the next day. All of our public housepersons that would normally take guest requests up were recruited to help.  So when I got a call for an ice bucket, I planned to take it up myself.

However, I needed Mike’s key to open the housekeeping closet.  As we headed down the elevator together I asked him what all needed to be done up there.  He explained to me that the meeting room had been used to store extra chairs, so they needed to move the stacks to the storage room located on the lower level of the garage.

He went on to say the stacks were 10 chairs high, and things were going really well until Don’s stack accidentally fell over onto a black Mustang down there.

Silence.

My heart dropped to my toes as my mind raced to determine if this could be a joke. Mike’s fairly new to the hotel, and we haven’t really gotten to know each other’s personal life, and I couldn’t remember a time we had discussed that I drive a Mustang…  please, let it be a joke….

Seconds later I respond – “Shut. Up.   Did it really?”

When he started laughing, my relief was immediate, although I still felt the tingling in my toes.  “I wondered if that was yours,” he replied.  “I knew you were from Illinois and I didn’t see a guest registration card in your window so I figured it was an employee’s.  I took the chance!”

I couldn’t keep from smiling!  I mean, I set him up perfectly by asking what they were working on,  and he jumped on it.  I was quite impressed, actually.

Funny how that little joke helped me get through the rest of the night. Every time I thought about it, I smiled.

Even after Mr. 862 called down ticked off that he didn’t have hot water in his tub, but he did in his sink, and didn’t want maintenance Mike to work on it while he stood naked and dripping wet. (I wasn’t about to tell the angry bear that I was positive it was user error…)

Even after I took a phone call from an indecisive lady right at the end of my shift, who was just looking for quotes on room rates… and 20 minutes later, she finally hangs up saying she’ll have to think about it.  WTF.

Even after clocking out a half hour late, and making it halfway home before remembering I left my computer at the hotel, so I had to turn around and go get it.

Even after all that, when I thought about his little joke, I smiled.  In what can be a very stressful environment, it’s nice to have a good laugh.

I like Mike.  🙂