Things may get interesting and it could involve Bobby Flay.

So a friend sent me an email today with the subject "casting call." Knowing me and my friends this could have been for anything; a role in a zombie movie (they were only casting for victims. No thanks.) or in this case, for The Next Food Network Star. It seems like more and more, I should start believing in signs. As cheesy as it sounds, they keep coming.  First the restaurant decision and now this email.

Last night I laid in bed, not sleeping, tossing and turning and thinking about my possible catering business and how I am terrified of what is going to happen. While I love being busy I don't think I want the life of a restaurant chef. And so I lay and freak out about what do I want?  Do I want to work for someone else or do I want to call the shots?  Do I want to just take the first job that comes my way because it's a job and money or do I want to hold out for what will make me happy?  Isn't that why/how I got into this anyways?  I decided to take this culinary route because it is something that makes me happy.  I will pick cutting fat off of chicken thighs any day over trying to figure out a balance sheet. So this email comes along as soon as I'm wondering what I should be doing and where I should go next.  And let's admit it...  I could never pass by a mirror without looking so why not TV?  Seems like a good fit.  Maybe we will meet again Mr. Flay... maybe.

Change.

So as I mentioned in the post I lied about (sorry for never updating) lots of things are changing.  I went to Costa Rica and it was amazing.  A kind of place I could see living in.  It's interesting to go somewhere so different from what you see every day. We came home and purged our rooms of junk we've been hoarding.  So much "stuff."

Back to work at the restaurant and another week until school started and back to the grind. Same routine every day.  Same exhaustion.  Same stress.  Starting to catch up.  I chalked it up to post-vacation depression.

School started again: intro to baking and hors d'oeuvres and appetizers.  H&A was pretty much my job at the restaurant in class form so I was excited and knew it would be fairly easy.  Baking on the other hand is very much hurry up and wait... and I can't stand it.  I love sweet treats as much as the next person but I feel like baking is another world and it's not for me.  It feels boring to me.  Sorry if I am offending any bakers out there reading this but it's just my opinion. There's just something more exciting about adding this and that and fire and speed and seeing how it turns out.  Baking is more of a science and I've never been a science and math kind of girl.  On the bright side, I bring home lots of pies.  On the downside, I bring home lots of pies.

Work at the restaurant was going well.  I was getting better, faster at my tasks and prep work.  I've been going back and forth with the idea of leaving for a number of reasons: more time to spend with the family and friends I've been neglecting, more time to recover from the car accident I was in, more time to focus on school, more time in general.  The restaurant consumed practically every hour of every weekend and I knew it would be that way and I'm not complaining.  I chose this.  I felt as though it would be forever before I moved up since I'm only there twice a week and should come back when I could give 100%, so to speak.  After hours of sleepless nights, internal dialogue, lists and a talk with an instructor I decided to "suck it up" and stick with it.  I vowed that weekend that I was going to be better every day.  This was a great opportunity and I was going to be better.  Sunday rolled around and I was let go by the head sous chef since my availability is lacking.  Not to get all new-age, higher power-y but I guess this was the universe's way of letting me know I made the wrong decision.  I was told they needed people to be there and learn the stations and two days a week wasn't working for them.  He made it clear that in no way it was due to my performance so that softened the blow.  I worked the rest of the night and choked back the tears as I said goodbye and left my first job.

While I am enjoying this wonderful span of days called the weekend, I am torn. I enjoyed being in the kitchen.  I enjoy hanging out with friends and relaxing. I know it's probably for the best but it still sucks. Now I am planning and plotting some things of my own and we'll see how it goes.  Here's to signs.

Summertime and the living is... different.

Lots of new stuff going on and of course no time to write about it since I'm exhausted and my eyes are so bloodshot they actually hurt.

I promise I will write tomorrow.  And it's in writing so I can't break it.  Hold me accountable.

Here's a picture.