So, today is my anniversary. The anniversary of the day I quit my last job.
Well, you'd have to be dumb to not think it might happen any day during that time.
So, I still have a healing wound. I mean, my low self esteem took a low blow, bro. So, if you don't know what I'm talking about, I will recap, although it's still painful to bring up these memories. It's kind of like the bottom of my pool. If I don't clean it for weeks after it rains, all the debris settles in the bottom. Then algae develops, but it all just clings to the bottom. But when I go in finally and try to clean it, it all just gets stirred up and the pool gets cloudy.
Not anymore though. I got Robby the solar powered skimmer for the top, and I got Jaws the great white vacuum cleaner for the bottom. Sure, they both have to run all day, but the pool is comparatively very clean.
So, getting back to my scarred over wound. So, I was chef at a restaurant in San Diego. I got paid like a line cook. I was not given much freedom. In the beginning, every dish I made had to be tasted and modified to the owners' tastes. So, when they wanted me to start taking on more responsibility, I was like a wounded dog who didn't know how to do things on my own without being beaten into it first.
Anyway, the restaurant wasn't making enough money. Sure, part of it was my fault. Not all of it. So, one day, my boss came in and said she wanted to meet with me when I got a chance. I was prepping. She had to wait a few hours. Finally, she asked again. We sat at the bar. She told me that they had taken on a partner chef and he would start right away. I had to ask what it meant for me. Supposedly, I would not get a pay cut, and they would come up with a new title for me. Not chef though, of course. And I would no longer run the kitchen. Then she left, and I went back to prepping. I cried a lot, but I tried to hide it. I didn't know if I should tell the cooks working that night. I talked to the server about it. I think I ended up telling the cooks.
I had gotten word several months later that someone might be taken on as a partner chef. But then, I asked the other owner, and he said no. He didn't really want to discuss it with me. So, I felt a little better.
But I was always on edge there. Always. Always stressed.
So, a week after the bomb was dropped, I got the hell out of there. The new chef seemed like a real douche. I couldn't work for him even if he would be able to make some positive changes. And how long would he be able to make his own changes without the boss getting in the way the way she always did?
And then I was unemployed. For by far, the longest stretch ever since I joined the work force.
Sure, there was a ton of regret, self doubt, zero self esteem, self hatred, and major depression. But, there was also a lot of memorable times.
My mom's one year deathaversary. My sis and my bff came into town. My bff and I got tattoos from a kookie adversarial Italian guy.
Our band's CD release party. The time leading up to and the show itself was very stressful and disappointing. But we got it done. That was something.
We went to see one friend's band in the battle of the bands at House of Blues Anaheim. Unfortunately, they didn't win, even though they were awesome. Then we went to see our other friend's band in LA that was on tour from New Orleans.
We went to LA another time when the FP's band played a show there.
We went to West Palm Beach to check it out, to see about maybe moving there. We met my sis there. We swam in the warm soothing Atlantic Ocean. That was my first time in... years and years and years.
I went back to LA on Halloween weekend to hang out with my BFF one more time, and get another tattoo together.
Then we moved cross country. There definitely have been good and bad times both. And we're still not settled here. But, I still stand by the decision, as a better move for the whole family.
Okay, so we have a new puppy and he's disrupting the whole family.
But hopefully he will get better and we will be able to live in harmony soon!
Anyway, it was a wild painful interesting ride. Both the job that I worked at for 2 years and 9 months, and the 10 months off of work. And I'd like to think I've grown some as a person.
And I like to think that I still haven't created my best dishes yet!
Steamy Piggy Revisited
2 hours ago