I write a lot about the past because it's easier to see things in my head that have actually happened versus trying to figure out what I want to do with the rest of my life. The future-- something we try not to think or talk about in A.A. One day at a time we say. But in real life it's something that I need to start doing.
I know I don't want to be a machine operator forever, but I also know that I have absolutely no desire to pursue a higher education. Really it just doesn't appeal to me, and me think is be good smart enough. I do often think about the good olde days in kitchens, and I dream of somehow, someday, being able to afford to go to culinary school.
I already have many skills that could easily land me a job as a dishwasher or a prep cook at a Denny's or wherever they might hire a 3-time felon, but I'm getting too old to start at the bottom again.
I could stay here in the noisy hot factory and churn out book covers all day for years. But I see what this place and others like it have done to people long term- robots, they're God damned robots!
I prefer a work environment where I can be not only hands-on, but creative. That's what I love about cooking, I can create something that makes people happy, and I enjoy the process of it all.
That's what we should all do, right? We're supposed to do for a career what we would do in our spare time. I can tell you that I do not laminate paper in my time away from work. I get some joy out of the work I do but it pales in comparison to a mediocre day behind the grill. I want that back.
I want to be excited about being early for work every day. I want to think about food and what I can do to make a restaurant better when I'm at home and lying in bed at night. I want to be in the weeds: tickets hanging off the printer to the floor, plates in the window, board full, every hot piece of steel purposefully cooking various meats, shouting everywhere, sweat pouring from top to bottom, somewhere in the background an old Aiwa stereo pumping the same 100 classic rock songs we've heard for our whole lives. There's a real sense of accomplishment at the end of a busy night in a good kitchen. And it's not something anybody will ever tell you, you just feel it. You feel completely torn down and wiped out but you want to do it again.
Of course there's the drugs. I've only briefly worked as a sober cook and the people I worked with were high, drunk, and could often be found in the cooler wielding pistols and mumbling incoherently, all while smoking a cigarette next to the produce. The triggers would be constant, and the perils around every turn, but something tells me I'm very close to being ready to get back in.
Since I doubt I will ever come up with enough money for a Culinary Arts degree, and my old loans have been defaulted for years, my only real option is to start out low down and work through the shit for years. But even at the bottom, where I've been so many times, I can see the top, and I know how to get there. Work, work, work.
Stay tuned, I see a career move within three months...
I know I don't want to be a machine operator forever, but I also know that I have absolutely no desire to pursue a higher education. Really it just doesn't appeal to me, and me think is be good smart enough. I do often think about the good olde days in kitchens, and I dream of somehow, someday, being able to afford to go to culinary school.
I already have many skills that could easily land me a job as a dishwasher or a prep cook at a Denny's or wherever they might hire a 3-time felon, but I'm getting too old to start at the bottom again.
I could stay here in the noisy hot factory and churn out book covers all day for years. But I see what this place and others like it have done to people long term- robots, they're God damned robots!
I prefer a work environment where I can be not only hands-on, but creative. That's what I love about cooking, I can create something that makes people happy, and I enjoy the process of it all.
That's what we should all do, right? We're supposed to do for a career what we would do in our spare time. I can tell you that I do not laminate paper in my time away from work. I get some joy out of the work I do but it pales in comparison to a mediocre day behind the grill. I want that back.
I want to be excited about being early for work every day. I want to think about food and what I can do to make a restaurant better when I'm at home and lying in bed at night. I want to be in the weeds: tickets hanging off the printer to the floor, plates in the window, board full, every hot piece of steel purposefully cooking various meats, shouting everywhere, sweat pouring from top to bottom, somewhere in the background an old Aiwa stereo pumping the same 100 classic rock songs we've heard for our whole lives. There's a real sense of accomplishment at the end of a busy night in a good kitchen. And it's not something anybody will ever tell you, you just feel it. You feel completely torn down and wiped out but you want to do it again.
Of course there's the drugs. I've only briefly worked as a sober cook and the people I worked with were high, drunk, and could often be found in the cooler wielding pistols and mumbling incoherently, all while smoking a cigarette next to the produce. The triggers would be constant, and the perils around every turn, but something tells me I'm very close to being ready to get back in.
Since I doubt I will ever come up with enough money for a Culinary Arts degree, and my old loans have been defaulted for years, my only real option is to start out low down and work through the shit for years. But even at the bottom, where I've been so many times, I can see the top, and I know how to get there. Work, work, work.
Stay tuned, I see a career move within three months...
