Fridnesday came and went, and to be quite honest I feel cheated of my "weekend" due to the fact that two of my classes scheduled post-spring break midterm exams for Thursday and Friday.
Needless to say I am none too pleased about having had to wake up at 5am (okay, I'll be honest... I rolled out of bed at 5:53) or having to spend this chilly Saturday sitting in the lobby counting the seconds in between struggling to keep my head from hitting the desk from exhaustion.
That being said, I am expecting a package to be delivered to the desk and I can't imagine being anywhere else while the online tracking reads "In Transit." This particular package contains 4th generation iPod Touch, which isn't mine but I'm still excited to get to play with it nonetheless.
iPod excitement aside, as I speak (umm, type?) a certain manfriend-roommate-future-spouse of mine is collecting a (mostly) brand spankin' new desktop computer to replace the relic that I currently suffer with at home. As excited as I am at the prospect of going home to new electronics to play with, it's still 4.5 hours away and I'm agitated with the role reversal we're both experiencing in this situation. I'm stuck at work with his new iPod, and he's at home with my new computer.
Dear Saturday, THIS SHIT IS NOT FAIR, CUT IT OUT!
But in all fairness, as far as Saturdays go today's a pretty good one. I'm already halfway into my shift and I've barely noticed the time. Not to mention it's still half an hour until checkout and I only have 2 rooms I'm waiting on, and there are two housekeepers here to lessen the load. So yay.
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Now, for part two of thoughts on coffee.
Both my parents are seriously heavy coffee drinkers and they have been all my life. I never considered my parents as being anything other than parents, meaning I have a hard time believing they're real people, but it occurred to me recently that neither of my parents are what you would call "morning people." As long as I can remember, their work schedules and having to take us kids to school required that they be up insanely early which they managed to do for years on end without fail. But only in the last week since my short weekend visit home did I notice that my parents' "sleep in" time is MUCH later than I remember it being. And still, even after sleeping in an extra 3 hours than normal, both my parents woke up to a pot of coffee... each.
Being in the same situation now as a pseudo-adult, I find myself in the crappy predicament of having to work early morning hours; it's not something I love doing but at the same time I prefer it to the alternatives so I suffer through dusk as patiently as I can. I never considered myself a coffee person (minus the summer I spent in France, French coffee is ALWAYS worth waking up for) and even having a 5:30am alarm time hasn't changed that. But it seems like every morning at work I'm tempted by the smell wafting from the coffee maker and I always fail to stop myself from snagging a cup.
Today's realization: coffee is like cigarettes. It's a scent that it strongly tied to my childhood (severe emphasis on "strongly") and therefore I relate the scent to good memories, thus good feelings, thus I want to drink coffee. But just like cigarettes it's only a good idea until I actually execute, at which point I regret it almost immediately. The problem with coffee is that unlike cigarettes, I can't brush my teeth and shower and be rid of it. No. Coffee lingers for HOURS... between the breath and the way it coats my teeth, the immediate and short-lived pick-me-up followed by hours of jitters, and WORSTLY the subsequent four trips to the bathroom with the dreaded coffee shits.
In conclusion, coffee is the devil. But it's a good-smelling devil that conjures happy feelings that I will probably never be able to resist which is compounded by my choice to pursue a career in hospitality for which coffee is an industry staple. WTFML.
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