Hypocrite

I have a secret that I haven’t told anyone- not my lover or even my mother.  I don’t even want to admit it myself.  I have talked so. much. shit. about the restaurant life, about how pastry is underrated, how it doesn’t pay, how I am never going back.  My goal for 2018 is to get out of the professional kitchen and find a more comfortable way to make money from my love of food.

Not even 2 months into the year, and I am starting to have feelings again.  My mind has developed a wandering eye.  I don’t miss the late nights, I don’t miss the stress, I don’t miss having to babysit coworkers, but goddamnit I miss making desserts.  I miss making beautiful plates.  I miss thinking creatively about new ways to do things, new ways to serve them, new plating styles.  I miss the excitement of selling dishes that I created.  I miss trying to make them look pleasant and curious.  I miss playing with a range of flavor and combining them in surprising ways.

So there, I said it.  I miss it.  I do.  I even find myself looking for job postings, dreaming about jobs that are too hard, promising long hours and a long range of requirements, most of which is not the fun part of creating.   Because there is still a small part of me that believes that I could do it.

But then I realize that I get to have a life and freedom to do all the other things that I want to do.  Which is a lot of things.  Normals things, like cooking at home, and drawing, and writing.  And being social.  This I would miss.

As for now, I am enjoying the easy life of unemployment, all the while feeling restless, feeling guilty, feeling like I should be contributing something more.

COnflicted and a hypocrite, that’s me.

-Marianna

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