just another day

I am blessed with very sensitive skin.  Combined with the attribute of wearing my emotions on my sleeve, I battle with acne.  Its the worst.  Its on your face, and its so noticeable.  Thank the good goddess for make-up.  Its so good.  But my problem is that I cannot kept up with the upkeep.  I work in a 100 degree kitchen.  That is not an overstatement.  Its hotter then balls hot.  My makeup runs, I look like joker town fool by the end of my shift.

So I have this zombie dead zit that is the worst.  Its been holding steady on my fore head for honestly months.  It won’t budge, just chillen, making a home.  But now its full blow sickness, it a colony plotting to take over my whole face.  Really, my face it going to turn into a big zit.  Its happened before, and its. Terrifying.  Downright awful.  Its going to chew my pretty face, consume my self, and I will be left right where I am now.  I have had three people comment on my face.  The first asked if I got cut, the second if I had a bruise, and the third if I got into bike accident what’s wrong with your face?  Honest to goddess, this happened.  A bike accident?? A bike accident.  No. Nope.  Just a zit.  I mean this happens to me.  I get a fuck face zit for like half a year.  The worst? Terrifying??

No.

Not even close.

Honestly I don’t give a fuck about my face town fiasco.  What I walked into today at work was terrifying.  It was beyond a blemish turned bruised.  I walked into a pure hell of a greasy mess.  How and what have I done to deserve this level of grossness.  I almost had a heart attack.  No warning, just a ball of hot greasy splattered evenly across every surface.  Dust settling again on top.  New oil waits new grease.  I couldn’t even walk from my cup of coffee to my station.  I had to walk around the entire restaurant just to get from the front line to the back.  Within being there for no less then 5 minutes, I had inexplicable oil on my hand.  One hand sink was being repaired and out of commission.  Since it was being worked on, there were tools everywhere, around the sink and the hallway leading to the office.  Everywhere I looked and walked was not okay.  Not a single sight being up kept or cared for.  Everywhere is neglected.  Fuck, I haven’t been there for one day.  One.  The other hand sink was so dirty it looked like a bus boy had puked it in.  There was no soap at that sink.  Mind you, I had to walk a solid 2 minutes to get to 2/2 no functioning sinks.  No big deal.  NBG. Its only me.

What have I done to deserve this?  If I was in prison, it would be cleaner.  And it might most likely be a more pleasant environment.

Good goddess I wish this was the end.  Only the beginning really of my day.  Remember, this is first 5 minute of the day.  The kitchen was a greasy snot ball of hell for the first hour.  After a fury of soap and anger, I checked the schedule.  Oh, I am working the hot line by myself, after no real training.  Also, was I warned?  Nope.  Last conversation with chef was that I should start learning the station.  So now I am on my own, with no warning, a station I hardly know, apparently in charge what comes out of the kitchen, a fucking messy ass kitchen, plus I have my pastry prep to do, put the order away, oh yeah there is a 100 person party tomorrow at noon.  Did I mention no warning of an extra aside from the party?  That at least I was informed about.  Carrot cake is good and fast, but goodness.  At the end of the shift, the chef was courteous enough to remind me that if I had cut the cake, I wouldn’t have to come in so early in the morning.  God damn, if only I had thought of that.

Its Tuesday.  Tuesdays are slow.  Its a chill day.  We started with a nice embarrassing 14 on the books.  But of course, since I was so ill prepared for the day we got shook.  Mini earth quake.  It was a smooth earthquake, but it could have been less exciting.

Oh, I think I am going to work 12 hours tomorrow.  NBD.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s