heads down bottoms up
 
This new skin brings about a fresh new beginning, a change, reminding us the importance of looking at things from another perspective so that we may learn to understand and accept all that we see for not what they appear to be, but what they truly are.
Tuesday
just talking shit.
I had once upon a time rested my belief on Nutri-grain cereal packets, trusting that you only get out what you put it. Perhaps that belief should still stand. But it stands quietly, and almost invisibly. Unknown. Foreign.

How pleased we are with life is not merely determined by what happens to us, it is also determined by what we expect to happen to us. To put in but not expect. To sacrifice but have no reciprocation.

A freshly sharpened knife cuts deeply into a healing wound. The seeping of blood returns, but it will mend. An ugly scar it will be to carry. Hidden, covered, masked, but never shown. An embrassment? A constant reminder?

Every scar carries with it a tale. A tale that may never be fully revealed in the short course of our lifetime, but carried to the grave nonetheless. With the scar comes strength, comes wisdom, comes knowledge, memories and thoughts.



The traps and snares of modern life have made the pleasures that are right there in front of us so much harder to recognise. We only need to take a step back and open our eyes. Easier said than done.

If you want to be happy for an hour, take a nap.
If you want to be happy for a day, go fishing.
If you want to be happy for a month, get married.
If you want to be happy for a year, inherit a fortune.
If you want to be happy for a lifetime, help someone else.


I'm going to take a long nap.
posted by sciurine @ 1:59 AM   0 comments
Sunday
workplace assessment
This week marks my first month anniversary as a food and beverage attendant. To be honest, I thought hospitality was beyond my league and never to be associated with ever again since my resignation at McDonald’s restaurant two years ago. I can’t say I completely regret commencing yet another journey in this field, but it certainly hasn’t provided me with the satisfaction at I had wished for in starting a new job.

Like a tiny grain of sand in the beach, I can not help but feel insignificant and unappreciated in this huge and impersonal field of hospitality where the business interest is solely placed on the bucks profited and not on employee satisfaction. I had always believed that the success of a business depended highly upon their greatest asset – good employees – that looking after them will in effect, look after their customers and draw in profit. But in such a well recognised and established company with an enormously high turnover rate of employees on a week-to-week basis, retaining employees through incentives are no longer of any importance. Perhaps the only incentive, and quite an important one, is the high rate of pay for such little work. I had learnt recently that what I get paid now is roughly equivalent to what I will be getting upon graduation as a qualified physiotherapist after four years of training. Frankly, this prospect is as alarming as it is frightening.

I am a mingler. I love mingling and I mingle because I can and whenever I can. And being a mingler, I usually don’t have much problems at making new friends in unknown territories. It is different here at work and people seem slightly less sociable and talkative, and it has definitely taken me much longer to feel like I indeed belong.

I hate breaks. Never would I have imagined myself saying that, but at work, the worst thing that could happen is to have a break relief worker come into your suite and tell you to go on a break. Majority of these break relief workers have no clue as to what they should be doing in your suite and is destined to stuff things up, only to reflect badly on you on the feedback card completed by your host. On a forced break, I sit in the common room glancing at the paper half-mindedly, whilst the other half is occupied with dreadful thoughts of what might the break reliever stuff up this time. These days, I walk back into my suite expecting a dishwasher full of unwashed dishes, food unprepared, bar fridge half empty, and an unhappy host. Sometimes I wonder what these break relievers actually get up to in the suite when obviously, they haven’t been doing their job.

The company is accountable for the break relievers lack of skill and common sense. With a short investment of time and effort in holding a 3 hour training session, every employee will know the differences between all the wines, beers and spirits, the procedures involved and expected, making our lives as employees easier and that of the supervisors, and also happier guests. My lack of training as a food and beverage attendant and a bar operator unveiled during the most inappropriate times of serving customers, when on several occasions, I had to embarrassingly ask my host to make his own basic spirit whilst I watched on and learnt. *sigh*

In stark contrast to the lack of training delivered by my current employer, my new workplace has offered to train me up equip with true skills required as an F & B attendant. I attended a three hour paid training session where I sat there like a sponge and absorbed all the spoon-fed knowledge on offer. I walked out feeling wet. I am excited to make a start in this new workplace, but had just found out that I did a no-show on my first shift today, that I apparrently accepted - according to a computer system. I have never been able to say this convincingly at all my previous jobs, but this one was truly an accident.

P.S> Torquer, I'm sure you're finally happy that I have managed to use correct punctuation this time.
posted by sciurine @ 1:17 AM   1 comments

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Thoughts, ...flowing slowly and gracefully, ...awakening the senses, ...keeping you up in the night, I sometimes wonder why people write. To express? To reflect? To be heard? I write, to free myself from a world of thoughts.

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