Full Moon: The Aftermath

Oy! Such a Day!

I awoke this morning with the waltz "I don't want to know" from Jerry Herman's musical Dear World running through my head...that should have been warning enough.

Humming that tune, I neglected to close the lid on the Senseo while making a cup of coffee this morning. I immediately knew what I had done AFTER the boiling water began spewing all over the counter and before I had the good sense to turn the machine off.  Clean up on table 1!

Relieved another box of its contents of mixing and serving bowls of various size and depth. Had to adjust the height of  a cabinet shelf to accommodate the new additions. Unfortunately, I didn't replace one of the clips that holds the shelf above in place.  While attempting to remove a breakfast plate from that shelf, its contents began to cascade onto the counter and floor below.  I caught most of the dishes, but lost 2 plates, 2 breakfast bowls, and a saucer.  Could have been worse. Swept and vacuumed the kitchen floor and counter-tops.

Planned to put together an asparagus salad, and a cucumber salad, but thought it unwise to risk cutting off a finger in the process. The only good news of the morning is that I didn't drown in the shower or slit my throat while shaving.  Yes, it's the little things...isn't it?

At work the computer system is down; I inform the boss, we're up and running in about an hour.  The staff begins to arrive and every one of them is coming down with something, probably a summer cold (the worst kind) and their sniffles and sneezes are only muted by the vacuum cleaner and the pounding dance music blasting from the speakers in the bar and dining room,  making it hard to think and almost impossible to have a phone conversation. The volume is eventually turned down and the station changed to one of sane music at opening.

That we were unprepared for the onslaught of little ones (toddlers mostly - the darlings - as the doors opened on a beautiful day we thought would entice everybody to the beach) would be a gross understatement.  (Why do parents have to bring the kids who are already tired and sleepy to a restaurant?  (Is this a family plot to force everyone else to suffer what they do at home?)  If I had a dime for every screaming, crying kid we had to endure today, I would never have to work another day in my life. All servers and myself had pounding headaches by the end of the shift.

The bar area was unaffected - kids are not allowed in there - so I seated many adults at the hi-tops in the bar to spare them the assault on their senses.

I was screamed at and cursed out by callers totally pissed that we were no longer taking reservations for the evening.  Try planning ahead instead of calling on a Saturday afternoon for a reservation that evening.  What were they thinking?  I did what I do in such cases; hang up on them and defy them to call back with the same attitude. If they don't get the message I hang up again. My parents didn't treat me that way and a stranger isn't about to do that either.

I know this may sound bizarre, but I still enjoyed the day. There were many other diners who made up for all the stoopid, and they were a blessing.

I savored a very, very, very large Cosmo as my after-shift drink and enjoyed the quiet walk home. I am about to prepare dinner and pray that I don't cause the stove or building to explode in the process.  Wish me luck. 

And so it goes.
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