Time Sensitive Material

I feel like I'm too sensitive.

Ok, I know that I'm too sensitive.  I'm sure that I would have gotten farther in life if I had tougher skin.  But that's part of the genetics that I involuntarily inherited from my father.

I feel like going into work every day, working in that small kitchen, in my little nook, like I'm going to erupt.

I know I've bitched about this stuff before, but you also don't have to read every single blog I write.  If you do, you're nuts!

I work with a big huge fat kid who doesn't move out of the way, throws hot pans across the room into the soapy water, bosses everyone around, throws tantrums, and he's the teacher's pet.  He's the chef's protege, and the chef is always concerned about if his pet is going to be in a good mood or not, and he's always trying to placate this big bully.

I'm almost twice this kid's age, and years more experience than him.  Yet, I'm trapped on pantry.  Everyone treats me like I just started working in a kitchen, which in turn drains any confidence I have, which makes me probably look like I just started working in a kitchen. 

I feel like I've regressed skillwise.  I can't make a simple lousy dessert without the chef saying how it just isn't right or needs something else, or whatever.  I try to make desserts based on what stuff we have that we need to get rid of.  And I try to do it between keeping up with my regular work.  And I end up making something that isn't acceptable or isn't what I would like to make.

What it really all comes down to, is that I didn't go into this business 14 or so years ago, to be in exactly the same position I was in my first kitchen job.  I'm not saying that pantry is really only an entry level position, like people like to classify it, but this job, with other cooks who I can't relate to, it is not the right job for me.  I feel so alienated from this place.  And that makes the paranoia creep in, like they are always evaluating me and are going to axe me at any minute.

Which, I would like to think is not true.  As far as I know, they give people several chances, and they let them know if they aren't happy with someone's performance... but I know that I'm not the best version of myself there.  I try to do what I can, but it's not enough.  I should know how to cook everything on the menu by now.  But sadly, I only know maybe half, or maybe even a third of the menu.  I tried to learn other stuff in the beginning, but I wasn't really given the opportunity to work the line, and I didn't push my way in.

So, here I am.  I've pretty much gotten to the end of my road at that job, because of which road I've decided to take.  So, I'm just going to camp out at the dead end of the road.  Hole up in my tent.  Sustain.  Build myself an outdoor latrine.  Try to keep a low profile, until the cops come and evict me.

Or, until that secret path out of the subdivision opens up for me.

I'm hoping for the secret path.