All Good

It’s over. My years at the Lafayette Club have come to an end, and I’m enjoying three days off before I start my new adventure. I’ll be enjoying three days off every week, in fact, part of the draw of this new journey. Many of you have asked me where I’m going, and I’m not quite ready to publicly list them on this rather personal blog of mine, but I’d be happy to share that information with you privately if you know me well enough to ask. Funny thing about it, when I do mention the name of the restaurant to people in passing or in depth, nearly everybody has heard of it, even though it is in a small town, far away from the hustle of the cities. It receives its reputation from the care and dedication of owners who take pride in their work, and require passion from those who work their line. This will be an experience I will absorb in its entirety, and I hope I am able to impart some of my years of knowledge on those who need it, as well.

Amanda’s third trimester is approaching quickly. The baby is constantly wiggling and turning around in her liquid apartment. It’s 7am, and I just felt her move through mama, which I don’t feel very often, but more and more, I can sense her little legs or arms flailing about, probably in response to Daddy’s masculine baritone voice. The baby’s room is coming together nicely. We’ve decided on a Dr. Seuss theme throughout, and slowly Amanda has been finding deals on EBay on relic Theo LeSeig merchandise and books. This is quite an experience. Our house has transformed so much in the last two+ years, and this one small room means more to me than any other project I’ve taken on, and I can see the future of our loving and laughing family every time we put up a new book or toy on the shelf. I’m also seeing books I haven’t read since I was a kid and it’s pretty cool to read them again.

Yesterday we all went to the cities to Mac's memorial BBQ. I can’t believe it’s been a year since he died. I got to see a few of my friends from prison; the ones who are doing well. It’s a great feeling to see people from such an awful time, doing something with their lives. Mac didn’t make it, but we reminisced of better times, and saw life in each other’s eyes that grows every year. We are the few that made our time away work for us. We all have families, and we all do everything in our power to make this our permanent life. We know what awaits us inside, and we are drawn toward this light, but we know the darkness looms. The time grows longer between every visit with each other, but we know it is because we are doing well that we are obligated to be near our homes.

Time is life’s scarcest commodity. Ten years ago, I used to say, “I can’t believe that was ten years ago!” Everything flies by in the blink of an eye, and living in the moment is more important than ever. This is why I altered my career path; family has become the most important thing. An extra day at home is worth its weight in gold. Try doing that math. 52 extra days a year I can have breakfast with the girls, sleep in, take the dog to the park, take my wife out for coffee, scrub my toilet (the wife would appreciate that I said that even though I won’t actually do that), make artisanal coffee in my syphon brewer, lounge, and create a new world for a baby that will be completely dependent on us. WE need me here more. And here I am. I’m here for you, my ladies.

A Stagiaire

Writing time doesn’t come as easily as it once did. When I started this thing years ago, I was single, jobless, incarcerated, and hopeless. Things have changed dramatically over the years, and instead of sitting down to write out my thoughts and my story, I’m trying to harness the energy of two children, a German shepherd, and a pregnant wife. These are all my favorite problems, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. Today I mowed the huge lawn surrounding our home, and I kept thinking it was a good time to write: the hour between the lawn and going to the dog park, lunch, fixing the vacuum cleaner, doing the dishes, etc. I know, all of this is normal for normal people. I’m not normal. I have two belly buttons. I work a lot. I work three 12+-hour days, two eight hour days, and sometimes a sixth and even seventh day. In order for me to be useful to my family, I needed to take a step back, so when an opportunity presented itself, I pounced. I interviewed, worked a one-night stagiaire, and submitted my resignation letter this week all in the blink of an eye. I’ve been at my current place of employment for over three years—not bad for somebody that cooks for a living—and I’m not leaving for any other reason than I need to be at home more. I’ll be taking a step back in pay, title, and most importantly, hours. I will work under 40 hours per week, and only four days. It will leave me at home every Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday, and I will be home on Wednesday nights. As a professional cook, it is truly the best schedule I’ve ever had. As a dad, it’s the only schedule that will work for me. I’ll miss wearing the fancy coats, developing menus, creating specials, food costing, and management in general, but I won’t miss the stress and the long days. I will also be saving about an hour in driving every day. This, of course, was the brute before and after every shift that took even more away from my days. As I was weighing the pros and cons internally as I drove back from my stage (staj), that weighed heavily on my decision which I all but made when I realized I had already driven all the way home after just fourteen minutes. Home in fourteen minutes; I kept repeating that in my head the next day. I informed the powers that be that I was considering a change in hopes that they might offer me a little more work-life balance, but there was no offer of sympathy. I turned in my letter on the next shift. That’s all I’ve got. Who knows if I’ll start writing more again? The time will certainly open up, but I haven’t got a clue yet what I’ll be doing with all of it. Peace.