Jack of all trades, master of the one that matters…

People always say to me, “Becky, how are you always so good at everything?!” To which I have to reply with… that’s a lie, I am not good at everything. I AM, however, really good at faking it until making it.

If you were to look at my resume, which many people recently have what with my descent into the dark murky waters of the unemployment pool, you’d happen upon a variety of jobs ranging from equine management, which is just a glorified but more eloquent way of saying shit picker and horse feeder, to amusement park usher, to foot doctor receptionist. Add to that my schooling in Automotive Collision Repair and Refinishing with a dabble in welding, onto my planned continuing of education into the special effects makeup world and you might say I am a jack of all trades.

With all my past experiences I can accomplish a wide variety of tasks. That paired with being a fairly intelligent person and a strong independent black woman that don’t need no man and a knack for bull shitting my way through most things in life it may look effortless. The most humblest part of me has no problem admitting my personal downfalls, to which I have two very prominent ones; being terrible at both directional abilities and guesstimating in general.

This new job has put me to the test everyday I work and I can wholeheartedly admit that I have in fact faked it and can only assume I have thus far made it as no one has told me otherwise. Only time will truly tell…

Working the front desk at a hotel naturally comes with a responsibility to assist in the directional needs of patrons. Luckily we don’t live in the dark ages anymore and google reins almighty. Usually things play out in a similar way where someone asks me how far or how to get from one place or another to here. This usually ends in the same way, me going, “uhhhhhhhhhhh. Hold on one second.” and turning to Google to figure it out, which usually ends with the other person just saying, “I’ll just Google it…” My inner monologue is usually along the lines of, “I don’t know why we didn’t start off with that, you lazy son of a bitch.” and then a for real reply of a short pause and an, “Ok“.  This is the lesser of the issues as my directional inabilities are more of a nuisance while actually in the car. I have a way of not paying attention while navigating and an even bigger issue with ignoring while being navigated.

The art of guesstimation is an art I have yet to crack let alone finesse. You wouldn’t think working in a hotel would present such a problem in this area but with working the overnight shift comes the responsibility to set up breakfast in the morning and that’s where this all goes to shit…

The real problem is that for the most part I don’t witness the ass end of all my hard and nerve wracking work, which is not helpful at all to correct this flaw. 

I don’t drink coffee. It makes my insides very not happy, therefore I don’t know how to make coffee. Sure, the jumbo tub of Folgers has a measuring guide on the side. One teaspoon per cup of coffee. So if i’m making a ten cup pot I get put in ten teaspoons. Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong! This is where this easy mathematical word problem gets really fucked and I lose all knowledge. There is no actual measuring spoon, just a plastic spoon and your best judgement, this being the area in which I’m lacking. Are they heaping spoonfuls? Level spoonfuls? A moderate amount of in-between spoonfuls?! Why are there no answers!?! …I haven’t heard here nor there on the end result, by which I mean no one has complained yet while i’m still on shift which means I can only assume I have successfully bull shat my way through once again.

But don’t you think that the coffee is where this all ends. The problem is that the whole situation is full of guessing. I have to guess how much to prep for the amount of rooms in house and then I have to guess how much of each ingredient in each item I need so I don’t waste an entire family sized box of oatmeal, which is the hardest thing to make! Again, there is no measuring tools. You fill the pot with what you hope is not too much hot water and then you dump in what you hope is just enough oatmeal. Which is hard, because the longer it sits the more it congeals and you don’t want to make it too watery for the early risers and you don’t want to make it too thick so its a lumpy mass of concrete by the time ten o’clock rolls around and the next shift has to chisel it out of the pot. I leave at eight so again, I don’t see how it all turns out. The same goes for the waffle mix. This is less of a concern because you can store the leftovers for the next day in the container, but is it too watery?, too not watery?

All in all I really just hope for the best and say fuck it. I’ve made it this far and can really just continue to do the same here on out. I don’t think they’d fire me over it but it’s 2017 and you never really know with people these days… 

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