The weekend has gone by faster than I thought it would. At the beginning, I thought I'd never make it to Sunday evening, but here I am. Sunday evening, on the couch sipping a large lager shandy, my daily dose of thumbing my nose at the stupid 'no drinking in split shifts' rule. Ha!
I'm about to go downstairs, put in my four hours worth, lock this pub up and go back to bed. It's not been a bad weekend. Somehow, along the way I managed 'to almost make an old man very happy'. And just by chatting and allowing him and his wife to take pictures of me behind the bar. George and Jill Palmer from Leicestershire. What a lovely old couple, who called me 'cousin' and asked me lots of questions.
Some days are harder than others to remember why I'm here. It's easy to get caught up in the hours, the split shifts, the surly looks on kitchen staffs faces. Mean spirited chefs and cocky youths. Soon, I'll be off again. There's still so much to be excited about. I'm wondering if the excitement of the future is messing with the enjoyment of today. I'll try and focus some more.
Off I go...