Beginnings and Ends

Tomorrow I start my first day at the new job in Marketing.

On Saturday night, it was my last shift at the restaurant.

Weird to think that I was dreading my first day at the restaurant/bar 2 weeks ago, but I was quite sad to leave.

Working full time in a restaurant (40+ hours a week), I got to know all the different people in the kitchen, bar, and on the floor, and I really really liked them. It's such a social atmosphere, everyone is young, and because of the crazy hours, you never know who you are going to be knocking off from work with, and one knock off drink turns into two, or three, and the next minute you are out at dinner and cycling around the city together, and good friends, and you just met that morning on the breakfast shift. There are so many staff there, I started just calling people by their nationalities because I got so confused at first. Head Chef was "Scottish", Sous Chef was "Irish", Sous Chef 2 was "Polish", Bar dude 1 was "Gay and sweet Thai dude"... you get the idea - it worked out because generally they would just call me "The little Asian Aussie." Or "Food runner". Or Gina. Or Rina.

I literally just started learning everyone's names, and then even tonight, I swung past, and saw faces I hadn't worked with yet.

The hospitality lifestyle is definitely conducive to a party lifestyle. I felt like I had to leave the job just to put some sense of routine and normality back into my life. I mean, I was loving the lifestyle a little bit too much I think, to the point where I had to fit my washing, grocery shopping, cooking and sleeping AROUND the partying. ( And it never usually worked out. The continuous late nights, and bright lights were really becoming an issue for the household chores.)

The thing is, logic had to win to some extent. The restaurant was starting to get a bit quiet now that tourist season is over, and the autumn has come (my lord, is it cold here at the moment - the freaking wind and rain is really starting to get me worried... I can barely pedal my bike, the wind is so fierce) so hours will be cut right down, and there's no sick pay if I fall off my bike again and hurt my arm, or catch a cold....

During my last shift, I told a few people that I was leaving, and probably not coming back next week. They were sort of used to it I guess, it's a physically demanding job and not everyone can hack it, but they were a little bit surprised because I held off on telling anyone for ages. I think the turnover rate of staff is astronomically high. But none the less, from what I hear, I'm the only Aussie that has ever worked there, and it completely worked in my favour.

After everyone had finished work on Saturday night/morning, the chefs decided that we should go out to honour my departure, and we drank tequila at the restaurant, and then went on a work pub crawl around Dam Square. One of the chefs, Karl the Irish, had a few friends visiting from Dublin, and we met up with them later on the night, and everytime I finished a drink, another two were being thrown into my hands. It was a lot of fun, to say the least.

I dropped by the restaurant today to pick up my pay (woohoo!), and saw the little party crew from last night, working hard again. I don't know how they do it.

The restaurant manager told me to keep in touch, and if I wanted to come back, I was always welcome. It's something to consider in the summer next year i guess, when the tourists come back and there are hours again. If I save some money from this job and decide I don't want to work the lat 6 months of my visa, I could probably go back to 25 hours or something at the restaurant and just take it easy and not worry about money for a while. Anyway, it was nice to know that I am leaving on good terms and there are no hard feelings.

It sounds like a good idea.... save, travel a bit, live a nice lifestyle, and then kick back and pursue something I really really love for 6 months.....

Hello corporate world... I'm baaaaaaaaaack.......