funky chicken

i had to leave work early today. i had a breakdown.

i've been weighed down with too much responsibility there. i love being bossy, as i'm sure we all know, but it's difficult when it's your job to be bossy, and to people WHO DON'T LISTEN. i've started to dread going to work.

somehow, i've become in charge of everyone around me. i am the police. i have to keep an eye on everything around, and i can't deal with it anymore. i never asked for this responsibility, and i don't know if i can handle it. restaurants (though none i've ever worked in) are typically really hierarchical and everyone has a role and a title and blahdiblahdiblah. most of our new cooks are used to that, and they cannot seem to understand that i actually know what i am doing, even though i don't have some fancy french label. contrary to popular belief, i'm not mentally
deficient.

the people who run our restaurant are the ones who taught me how to cook. i pretty much do everything the way i know they'd want me to do it, and if i see someone doing something awful and heartbreaking, then i'm going to jump in and stop it. just because i seem frazzled and kooky doesn't mean i don't know what i'm doing. just because i joke around and talk a lot doesn't mean i don't get my work done. in case you work with me and have somehow found my blog, these next couple of lines are for you: i am ALWAYS ready on time. i never burn pan after pan of croutons. i don't scorch sauces. i chop my parsley as finely as sand, and i pound my garlic until it's as thin as toothpaste. my fire is never too hot or about to die. when someone in charge tells me to do something, i do it. i don't ever complain about having too much work. and damn it, i get my food out quickly.

i'm not saying i'm a genius cook, but when you can honestly say the same things about yourself, then you can start giving me attitude. but until then, swallow your damned pride and listen to me. wouldn't you rather have me on your case than the chef?

i'm sick of attitude from everyone. now, even the intern who's never worked in a restaurant is shoving it at me. the same intern for whom i got the job. i'm sick of people.

p.s. it's so cold in my house right now that i can see my breath