Just really needed a place to vent a bit and. despite not really checking these forums too much anymore, this thread is the first place that came to mind.
I moved out of my dad's house a bit over a year ago. I had around $10,000 on me, maybe a little more, thinking it'd be good to save to get a start on education after getting a job. I moved out of my dad's house to move in with my boyfriend and it'd been going great. I have really bad anxiety and paranoia, but I was incredibly determined and confident that I'd be able to get a job, especially since I'd done an internship in high school where I was essentially an assistant to an office worker and enjoyed thriving with work every day of it.
I started out kinda passively applying to jobs, but nothing really came out of it. I had a handful of interviews, but it never went further than that. I started getting a little panicked because I absolutely do not think I could work in customer service; to this day after having lived with a few roommates for over a year I can't even greet them without stuttering or worry intensely about running into one every time I leave the room.
Obviously, my $10,000 quickly dwindles down going towards rent before I'm left with nothing and still no job. My boyfriend pays my share of rent with no problems, but obviously we can't stay like this if we ever want to have our own place and such, and it stresses me out every single day.
So, several months ago, a golden opportunity opened up for me. My boyfriend works at a hotel and they'd had an opening for a laundry attendant position, and he asked me if I'd like for him to tell his manager about me. Naturally, I said yes, and after an incredibly short interview, I ended up getting the job.
The first day was fantastic. It was really stressful for me, especially because I had to talk to guests in the hotel a lot more than I'd expected to, and the work was really rough and confusing, but I pulled through. The woman training me was very nice, and just had me do basic things for the first day, guiding me through everything really carefully. She'd be training me for a week, so I was really confident that I'd be able to learn everything well and succeed. I even spent a while afterwards perfecting my ability to quickly fold towels the proper way.
The next day was absolutely awful. It was one of the busiest days of the week for the hotel, but I didn't know what that meant for me before it started. The workload ended up being several times what it was the day before. I walked in with a lot of optimism and enthusiasm. And then the manager told me my trainer didn't come in today, and that I'd have to figure everything out myself.
He had one of the housekeepers go over everything I had to do, but I didn't understand any of it. There were so many things I had to keep track of all at once; check the computer for rooms that guests had checked out of (a computer system I had no idea how to navigate), strip all of the sheets and towels out of each room, load all of the laundry into a huge industrial washing machine, fold all of it, as well as knock on guest doors to ask for their towels. (Also, I had to go into the room if there was no answer and no "do not disturb" sign, even if they were sleeping, and grab used towels.) All of this being incredibly fast paced because the housekeepers couldn't clean rooms if they weren't stripped of laundry.
I hadn't been taught to do most of this. All I'd done on the first day was strip maybe five rooms or so myself, watch my trainer use the washing machine without explaining how to use it, and then fold some laundry. Today I had to strip 40 rooms myself, load all of that laundry, and fold all of it. I tried so hard. I tried so hard to do everything as fast as I could to the best of my understanding. But I quickly fell behind. Knowing I was disappointing people, I started panicking incredibly hard, which made everything so much harder. But I tried so hard! I really did. That's probably the worst part of this whole thing for me, is how hard I tried. I mistake at one point and one of the housekeepers chastised me for it, saying "I must've gotten lazy and forgotten to do it" really sarcastically, and it broke me. A lot of the hotel staff ended up having to fold laundry with me because I absolutely never had time to sit down and fold it. I worked for 7 hours that day without so much as stopping for a second or taking a drink of water. At one point I was so dehydrated and desperate while rushing to work that I stuck my face under a bathroom sink in a room for a second just to wet my tongue. There just wasn't any time to stop. The manager would constantly get angry at me for not being able to keep up. And other people would have their own jobs delayed if I stopped for something like that.
After just having laundry to fold, I was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, I could barely keep myself together. The manager told me I'd have to stay for several more hours just to fold all of the laundry. I was okay at folding most things, but I'd only barely gotten an understanding of folding fitted sheets. I could've passed out from exhaustion. Then, the one positive thing to happen the entire day, was the front desk employee changed shifts with an incredibly sweet woman who came back to help me fold since she'd have a lot of downtime in her shift. She asked me how I was doing, and I told her honestly that I was overwhelmed and explained that this was my second day and the person training me didn't come in. She understood.
Eventually the manager came and told me to leave for the day, and the front desk woman told me she'd take care of the rest of the laundry. After stepping outside, I was shaking so bad and immediately started bawling when I got home. My muscles ached for days afterwards. I didn't go in the next day, nor did I even tell anyone I was going to stop coming in. I just couldn't. My boyfriend told me they'd gone through several housekeepers after me that quit, and that it was ridiculous they tried to give someone on their second day the workload that one experienced person wouldn't even be able to handle alone. I didn't regret quitting unprofessionally after hearing that.
But I regret quitting. After being so confident about getting a job, I just... quit. I let myself down, and I let my boyfriend down. I'm back to leaching off of him. And where before I was optimistic, if a little nervous and discouraged, about finding a job, I'm now absolutely mortified at the idea. I'm 20 years old and I've been mortified about getting a job after this experience, and all it comes down to is essentially being lazy and leaching off of my boyfriend.