The week I had been dreading was almost here. The Sunday night palpitations were setting in as I sat and stuffed my face with any chocolaty treats I could get my hands on to distract myself from impending doom. I laid awake a lot of the night tossing and turning with visions of angry customers queuing a the door, banging to get in! wiping coronavirus hands all over the window front and throwing insults at us…
The reality was obviously NOT this at all but my brain does like to be dramatic.
I work in a well-known UK travel store you see and let’s be honest. 2020 has not been kind to travel so far, far from it. We were closed for months meaning the initial bedlam of canceled holidays bypassed us (luckily); however, the shower of shit was waiting for us on our return. Mainly in a pile of letters and abusive notes posted through the door, most dating back in April. Poor people who had no clue what to do and nowhere to vent their frustrations posted passive-aggressive notes through the door, begging us to get their holiday sorted immediately! Look, I’m sorry, Mrs. Jones, but we can’t just magic a Boeing 747 down to Donny airport just for you to not miss your annual trip to Benidorm to get pissed up with ya gal pals now, can we. Seriously.
My first couple of days consisted of staring at my boss trying my very hardest to listen to my essentially new job role of ‘saving the sale’, encouraging people to amend instead of cancel upcoming holidays and helping to keep the company out of the shit. I tried my best to listen I really did but after approximately 1.5 hours of it I realised my face resembled that of the stupid seal from Finding Dory. Vacant. Bewildered. Dumb.
Of course, the other side of all this is that I’m feeling excited to be around people (colleagues, not customers, obvs) again. I’ve missed my work gang, the everyday talk of how much we hate customers, and anything at all sex-related. You know, all that mature stuff. That kind of stuff is good for the soul. Remembering who you are and not just being “mum,” I don’t work many hours. Still, it’s enough to keep me sane (ish), Although I’ve absolutely loved being off work and was dreading every aspect of going back originally. I’m so glad I’m starting to get ‘back to normal.’
People I’ve spoken to are saying we should all expect a second wave in the winter. What do you all think?