So. You know what's cool. When someone turns in their two weeks notice. And then decides to say fuck it, and not finish it out.
It's even worse when it's the other sous chef of the hotel, and now I've got to cover his shit, plus my own stuff going on. So, for the forseeable future, no days off. 14 to 16 hour days.
And his smug sense of self, on the day he decided was going to be his new last day, says to me "Hey. Don't let Chef work you too hard."
Fuck you very much, it isn't him that is making me work so hard. It's you. It's a bit ridiculous. But the bright side: he stopped caring about the job awhile ago. Now that he's gone, it's like a weight has been lifted. Sure, it'll be rough right now, but it will get better.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.
It's even worse when it's the other sous chef of the hotel, and now I've got to cover his shit, plus my own stuff going on. So, for the forseeable future, no days off. 14 to 16 hour days.
And his smug sense of self, on the day he decided was going to be his new last day, says to me "Hey. Don't let Chef work you too hard."
Fuck you very much, it isn't him that is making me work so hard. It's you. It's a bit ridiculous. But the bright side: he stopped caring about the job awhile ago. Now that he's gone, it's like a weight has been lifted. Sure, it'll be rough right now, but it will get better.
At least, that's what I keep telling myself.