At this point in time...

The pace of life changes at this time of year. At first your body drag with the effort, unused to the speed. Before you know it you're buzzing and recharged. Then, just as quickly, overwhelmed.



I thought I'd give a brief wrap up of the State of Stuff.



WORK



Mad March. The month that swings me wildly between feelings of love and exasperation for my job. The best feeling is that of a hostel that's booked to the brim full of guests, who are all out enjoying themselves... elsewhere. Slightly less enjoyable: relentless demands of guests when I just want to close and get out of there, vomit stains on the wall and carpet when I walk in the next morning, personality clashes in too-full dorms, drunken Irish guys who insist on shouting the words along to 'Little Lion Man' at 6:30 am, fielding complaints about why the night staff didn't answer the phone, teetering on the wrong side of the how-full-is-full tightrope. Human error becomes critical. Got a voucher for tonight that we booked for Friday next week instead? Told us yesterday that you wanted to extend your accommodation, yet somehow nobody got around to making a note on the system? Oops! How do you feel about sleeping on the street tonight?

And things can only get more exciting: it's not even Clipsal time yet!

However, its invigorating in a way too, especially when you get it right. Carrying the baby upstairs for the stressed-out mum as she wrangles the four-year-old and his scooter. Hearing someone who'd presented at the counter with bed bug bites gratefully thanking you for your help after you breezily move guests from the room, wash all the linen and do the rest of her laundry for free, lend her the heavy-duty bug spray for her bag and call the pest control services. Realising that something like that would have once caused you stress, but now you take it in stride. Having someone say to you, after a long morning dealing with guests who were unhappy about the noise last night, interpersed with nagging from the guys whose iPod you confiscated to get rid of the noise (can't win!), "I just want to thank whoever it was that finally got those guys to shut up!" and being able to have a laugh with someone about it. Helping exceptionally friendly and appreciative Canadian guys with bookings, tours and directions around the city. Passing on the complaint about 'dripping mouldy food' to Victor - When he began to go off his nut about how it was just the fridge leaking, I successfully avoided hearing him rant by changing the tack to, "I know Wayne doesn't want to fix the leaks, but maybe you could move your bag to the bottom shelf - then nobody can blame you! Just trying to look out for you!" He sort of chuckled then, and was like "Ah, I understand. Complaint number fifty eh! I'm keeping a list!"

For all Victor's "quirks", I'm actually quite fond of him these days. It'll be a bit sad when we do finally seek the help of the Catholic church to find him more appropriate accommodation. Perhaps because Victor's such a pain when he's in a cranky mood, I find him strangely enjoyable when he's in a good mood. Lurking at the corners, he sees everything that goes on at the front desk, and is the only guest who I can tell really *sympathises* with the staff sometimes. An eyeroll at a tedious guest here, a request followed by a generous "-when you not busy," there.

"You here tomorrow?" he often asks, brusquely, peering through his lens-less glasses. If I say yes or no he responds with a nod or a sympathetic smile as required. Then he swings his bag over his shoulder and lifts one arm in goodbye. "See you next time!" He hobbles off to wherever it is that he goes, his ankles poking out at the bottom of never-washed jeans as he disappears down the stairs.

Last weekend was WOMAD, which stereotypically attracts the best kind of guest: those who are friendly, laid-back and somehow 'clean', jokes about dirty hippies aside. Clean in a way that old men, bogans and drunks aren't. Although there are still a few of those around.

Speaking of old men: Some well-dressed, grey haired gentleman booked into rm 23 before I started my afternoon shift yesterday. No worries. A little later, in my peripheral vision I see this person near the entrance to reception with unnaturally wide, drawn-on pink lips, broad shoulders, a tight dress and garish eye-make-up. Ok, someone who looks like a drag queen. Being Fringe time, there are a lot of interesting characters around, and because I am a dork I'm thinking "don't stare!" and preparing myself to not do a double-take when I see this person front-on (this is all within a split second). All guests are welcome, right? So I chirp, "Hello!" and give the drag queen a big welcoming smile. She/he sort of gives a faint eye-brow raise of recognition and scurries past reception. Looks like she's following - oh, looks like she's following the old man. Ah. Well. Isn't it nice when you find two unlikely friends like that.


Sometime later the man presents his room key to reception. Oh, he's checking out! He doesn't need the room for the night after all. Isn't it nice when something else just comes up! Meanwhile, his "friend" slips out the door. I ask him to return his linen, as is standard procedure. He puts up a fuss. "It's all there!" he says, meaning its all in the room. Yes, well if I'm going to have to touch those sheets I'm not bloody well making a trip upstairs to get them. You can bring your own semen-encrusted sheets down here, boy. Of course I don't say this. "Oh, that's strange that it wasn't mentioned when you checked in!" I say cheerfully, with an air of polite disbelief. "You actually need to return them to get your deposit back!" He grumbles some more then goes to get them. I guess when you're in a position to choose a backpacker's hostel as your den of hooker love, the lure of $10 is strong.


UNI


Looking like a good semester. Constitutional law, Lingustics (Language Learning), German and English (Modernisms). Lots of work but its all kind of different. I'm kind of planning to finish my Arts degree at the end of this year (well, by the end of summer school) so that if I want to, say, teach English in Japan then I meet the contract requirements.


LIFE

What else? H and S are back from India. H might be getting a job at the hostel which would be fun I think! I had a good chat with DW the other day about going overseas - I hadn't wanted to bring it up in case it caused problems before it had to, but I'm glad I did. He basically shot down a couple of my ideas (care work, outdoor kids' camps) and although I don't have to listen to his advice, I do value his opinion... and it also kind of helped me, because I wanted to make some decisions rather than try to 'do it all'. He was quite keen on the idea of teaching in Japan (i to i do contracts from anywhere between 2 and 12 months) and was even like, "I'll come visit you if you do that." Naw.