The Good:
No more cubicle. Cubicles should be hated with a passion. It's the beige regularity, the illusion of privacy that makes other people place loud phone calls to their lovers and then complain when you make fun of them, it's the fact that there was no door, nor a window. And... it was just so beige. And cubicle. And... uhhh, beige
I will get to be creative at work. My boss once said to me “You are so very creative with these TPS reports. I really appreciate that.”. Mmmmmk. Let's be clear. That wasn't me being creative so much as staving off suicide. Or, more likely, murder-suicide.
Food. All the time. I already think about it, read about it, plan for it, plan to thing and read about it. I am perfectly happy to spend an entire day chopping things. I might as well do that for money.
The Bad:
Stupid, retarded hours. What will J do if I am at work until midnight every night? Hopefully not dump me and find a boyfriend that has normal, real person hours.
Dumb Pants. Chef's wear stupid crap. The coat I understand, but the pajamas pants... we are going to have to work on that. Pajama pants make my ass look fat. And not good fat, just fat fat.
Huge, fat ass after eating Food, All the Time. As my wise friend Chris advises, spit, don't swallow. But we all know how unattractive that is. Let's hope being on my feet the entire day will discount the fact there will be eight hundred pounds of butter in my work place at all times.
The Unmentionable:
What if I fail?
I've been having nightmares.
7 comments:
Do it, go to culinary school. Your dreams can't come true if you don't take the chance.
When in doubt, remember the sage words of Cookie Monster:
"Cookies!"
And everything will be fine.
Who cares if you're happy. Your homework involves making cakes for me to eat. And that's all that really matters now, isn't it.
My King doesn't doubt himself. Moreover, my King doesn't doubt me, and I say, do it, King boy.
xx
"So what if you fail?"
Buck up, kiddo.
Scooter... I suspect that your fear of J leaving you because of your late night job is actaully a manifestation of your fear of losing time with J. In other words, rather than the possibility of J actually cheating on you, you're actually worried about sacrificing your evenings with J (something you value immensly). Would you really be happy working at night and missing J? Is there a way to work during the day or maybe get off closer to 8pm?
Something to think about, Skip.
Ok, first, you are going to be the best chef ever and you will not fail.
Second, about cubicles: I would give anything--anything--to be working in a cubicle right now. I would kill to be bored!
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