Yesterday was my last day at Margarita's. Though it was my most tiring job till now (considering I've been slacking at nyp for 4 months), in a way I think it was the most rewarding. Not only did I learn about how a restaurant operates, I also learnt a lot about mexican cuisine, the different kind of wines, tequilas, liquor and what not. Not to mention carrying plates and trays that are DAMN HEAVY, calling people 'sir' and 'madam' that it is now second nature to me, faking a smile to the customer and chirping away to them when I'm so bloody tired at everything, and going in the kitchen to help customers take away their food. Goodness, I really can't stand going into the kitchen. Though it would only be for 15 minutes, I will come out looking greasy and positivly sweating like a pig.

I'm glad for this experience. Working at Margarita's made me open my eyes to the real world. No matter how desperate a situation you find yourself in, there will always be someone worse off than you; I've realised I am really blessed.

Blessed that I have a complete family who loves me.
Blessed with relatively good health.
Blessed that I have the financial means to pursue my university education.
Blessed that I have obtained my A level cert. [There are people who have to drop out of school to work, as they have to support their family]
And...perhaps in a way....blessed that I live in Singapore.

While I'm out there wondering whether to join hall camp or union camp, my colleague K is wondering how to pay for his mother's kidney dialysis bills, with his monthly pay of only $2000. He works two jobs a day, from 8am-5pm as a technician, then 6pm to 11pm at Margarita's.

While I complain about my family, there are people like T and U whose parents are divorced or are enstranged from their family.

While I judge people because they smoke, sometimes they smoke because they have no choice. It may sound like an illogical argument, but my colleague S got addicted to smoking because she used to work at this Arab street stall where she has to serve customers shisha. (Go look up if you don't know what is this, I'm too lazy to explain).

My workplace sounds like a drama. I love my colleagues for their spontaneity. Rich who always go "HI CAROL!" or "YES, CAROL!" or "OH, CAROL!" when I go to the bar to place orders for drinks. Prem who always gives me that goofy grin of his when he sees me talking /explaining stuff to customers or when I look in his direction. Donald, JH and Yen who always help me to carry the extra heavy plates, especially the humungous 30cm glass plate. Siti who will sing along to the music in the restaurant, forcing me to sing with her. And Calvin who always ask me to SMILE! when he sees me walking into the kitchen. My colleagues are a lovely bunch of people :)

BUT. I cannot stand the boss, who is coincidentally named CAROL too. What's worse is that apparently everyone hates/is scared of her, prompting comments such as 'Carol is such a bitch.' or 'F*** Carol'. It's damn weird to hear people talking bad about you, when you know they are not. They should seriously improve their staff welfare, or staff turnover is going to be high.