The last two wee...nonono: the last month and a half, has been stressful, to say the least. Ive already explained how exhausting competitions are, but add that to moving, not once, but twice in two months-- the second time to a big city a ways away from my new-to-become-comfortable farm-life (stress+desperate excitement here)--re-ignited/continuing, and trying to un-ignite relationship drama, and finally a week straight of coming into work 4 hours early first for competition prep, second for a sick coworker, and you get me: sleeping in until nine (three hours later than normal) and running out of milk with no time to go pick some up.
I managed to get milk today, actually, with fourteen minutes to spare before the produce shop closed. Thank goodness, because tomorrow actually has to start at six, and it needs to start off right. Milk included.
Wine Fest event tomorrow. Though it happens every year, this particular event, and always ends with much dancing, drinking and "good shows," until it is actually over will inevitably be a continuance of the stress of...oh, gosh, it feels like forever, actually...
But i am not writing to complain and moan about life as a cook; quite the opposite. I want to say that life as a cook would hardly be possible if not for all the people living the same, or very similar lives. The people that i work with are beautiful; my life source, my reasoning, my caffiene, more important than the milk i picked up for tomorrow.
I feel sad for my friend/relationship trying to un-ignite (side note: what the hell is the word for dousing the flames or putting out a fire...???) who loves the product he gets to work with, the cooking he does and the food he makes, but not the people he does it all with. i can handle the mexican produce and not being able to choose brule flavors because there is always a sympathetic shoulder and someone to send or recieve a silly note to or from, to laugh with, to empathize.
And lately that is nearly everyone in that restaurant. We laugh alot lately. And there is nore freedom with brules, more time to explain before being spittingly yelled at. I am surrounded by people who routed for me the entire two and a half months that i obsessed over competing, who still love me in the end. Who will be there next year. For another season of sleep depravity, fighting over red peppers and overbaked cookies, stress-induced poor skin, and a number of well deserved (but not permitted) staff drinks. love you all; four more days.