I only ended up taking half of yesterday off. The NyQuill did its job and I slept for almost 13 hours. I said I was tired. When I got up, my phone was full of messages including one from my boss asking after me and if I might see my way clear to coming in. It seems that Thursday's easy party wasn't so easy as the guest list nearly tripled, and my ability to not panic in those situations would have come in handy. As an added incentive, he dangled the fact that the owners decided at the last minute to close this Sunday for Easter. Knowing me well enough by now that I would soldier on for a day or so if I know a day to myself is coming up. Once I was sure that even though I was still running a fever I was in no danger of any more hurling, I agreed. They took further mercy on me by letting me do all the scheduling and paperwork we're days behind on, and avoid having to go on the floor and run around. I agreed, because I was also worried about being around the public's food considering I had a stomach bug of some sort. Please, I'm contagious enough on my own. That worked out great as we hadn't found the time to put out a full weekly schedule for the staff. Of course, now they hate me because after the schedule was posted, nobody liked what they got. That honeymoon is officially over.
So, my stomach is still doing vile things to anything I eat, and I couldn't take a 12 year old girl at arm wrestling right now, but I'm up and around. I have a million things to get done today. Despite my best efforts, staff payroll got totally FUBAR and I'll have to start getting that cluster fuck sorted as soon as possible. I discovered last night that we have no method for receiving bar cash accurately, and no controls in place for cashing out the wait staff in a timely manner. And laundry. Lots and lots of laundry.
And so it goes ....
P.S. Thanks for the well-wishes for a speedy recovery. I had one.
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