Orange Shoes Talking and Hope

Hello lovelies!

This is just a small update. I have changed my blog name to “Orange Shoes Talking” as of like, an hour ago. As much as I loved the idea behind “Un Papillon de misfit” (that’s french for the misfit butterfly) the butterfly being my spirit animal and that I consider myself a misfit in Pakistan, I changed it because I wasn’t feeling it anymore. Orange shoes talking is better for me as I am the proud owner of these orange shoes. Yes, the feet in the header are mine. Don’t judge me or my feet or my choice of shoe color.

Okay, so I’ll be shifting very soon to a hopefully neat apartment with a room that I hopefully don’t have to share with anyone. I’m 20, I deserve my own room right? I know what you’re thinking: You’re twenty fucking years old. MOVE OUT. But it’s different in Pakistan. We stick to our parents like leeches until we get married. Or run away from home.

Anyho, I had an good day at work yesterday. Even though my G.M must have insulted my boss who in turn insulted his assistant who in turn, and because he was challenged that he had no control over his staff, decided to make me do a double shift because one of our colleague was “sick”. No surprise. The people at the lower end of the chain always suffer. I’m always stuck doing double shifts or picking up on work. Always. They don’t have the guts to ask Mistress to do a double shift. She’s so good she’ll either laugh it off as if it’s the funniest thing she’s heard or play the mother-in-law card. She leaves half an hour early from work so if her reliever doesn’t come, no one can ask her to stay for the evening shift. Clever bitch. And if I complain as to why am I the one always stuck doing the double shift, they say:

“You’re not like the others!”

Do I have horns on my head? Maybe a tail? Or six legs?

“You’re more responsible then them”.

Screw “being responsible”.

I should so change my job.

But the reason it was amazing was this: My G.M, my GENERAL MANAGER, taught me something. And I had gone in his office to discuss an issue with the guest. He resolved the issue ( he’s so good you know)he taught how to use queue reservation (I can explain but it’s boring).

I felt very special after that. Saira/Sara/Sarah looked at me with fake pity when I was walking out if the GM’s office, her raised eyebrows trying to figure out whether I was in trouble while her mouth asked me if I’m feeling tired on account of being at the hotel for more than 12 hours. I was like:

20140530-215043-78643568.jpg

I am, aren’t i?

I’m done for now but the next time you’ll hear from me will be from my bedroom at my new place. Hopefully in a room I could call my own. Until then, au revoir!

P.S Hopefully my neighbours are better than Amanda’s next door hobo!

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