Yesterday, I arrived on the island.
After packing, flying and catching a ferry, bowed down by a flu bug and more mucus than I ever thought my head could possibly hold, I arrived.
I was speechless, mostly because my sore throat would barely let out more than a squeak at a time, and half deaf because my ears had not yet popped properly. Along with two other new employees, I was subjected to a whirlwind tour of the island, and dumped in our rooms, as the managers were in a hurry to catch the last boat off to Airlie Beach for a party.
The rooms. The rooms were a bit of a shock. I was expecting them to be austere sure, but at least clean and maintained. They're not. Doors, drawers, handles and finishings are broken all over the shop, the carpet is putrid. Mildew has been painting folk art over the entirety of the bathroom ceiling.
I haven't even started working yet. My first shift is at 5pm tonight.
It may be my illness speaking, but I'm having a hard time seeing the bright side here. My one consolation, the people are nice, but it may not be enough.
I give it a week.