Curt is on an important business trip, so I've been left to take care of things at the restaurant and at home.  I'm eager to be able to manage both, especially at home, where we're still lacking of a sofa and a good place to store our clothes.  So I decided to go to the furniture market.  I started out with a friend, but then she had to go, so I ventured out on my own, determined to find some furnishings for our apartment.  It was not to be, however, as it seemed as though every person at that market seemed to have it out against me.  Was it that my language wasn't good?  I don't know.  Was it that I didn't smile?  Surely not.  Was it that I had some funky B.O.?  I did take a shower in the morning.  I don't know what it was, but it was very frustrating; and I went home with no new furnishings.  By the end of my time at there, my feet were hurting, I was tired, and the world was not looking like a pretty place.  I then lugged the purchases I did manage to make back to the restaurant.

There, things weren't much better, as I found out that one of our staff, a really sweet girl, wanted to quit.  I don't understand, especially since we try to make the best work environment possible.  I just am sick of having to look for new staff and investing in them, only to have them leave in a few months.  I know we don't pay much, but does that in itself warrant the quick turnover rate we're seeing with our staff?  We'll possibly have an entirely new set of staff within three months of us being here.  That is just frustrating to me.

Then, there were the rude customers.  We didn't have many today, and most of them came in while I was out.  But the ones I did have the fortune to see were these two obnoxious guys that seemed to think that their time outside the country made them experts in how Western food should taste like.  I personally made their spaghetti today and served it to them proudly.  I'll admit I'm not the best cook, but I can at least make spaghetti.  I even added roasted garlic and mushrooms to the sauce to make it chunkier and tastier.  But no- they insisted that there was something wrong with the spaghetti. "It's broken". They told me.  It apparently didn't taste like what they had eaten in a foreign country.  In the end, I tasted it, had the staff taste it, and we agreed there was nothing wrong with the spaghetti. We told them we couldn't refund them the dish just because they didn't like it.  In the end, they finished the spaghetti, paid, left, and then stole the "no parking" signs from our front door.  Real classy.  

I had about enough of this place by the end of the day, so I came home early, only to find that our apartment smelled like nasty sewage.  So in honor of my bad day, I fried up some beef bacon, put in "My Big Fat Greek Wedding", and here I am, venting on my blog.  The worst part is that Curt won't even be back for a few days. I miss having my husband here to vent to.  Patience, I need a LOT of patience!

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