the inevitable two weeks.

This is an interesting food blog.

From the beginning, I’ve always wanted this to be a space where I get to process my wanderings as a blogger/writer/whatever, but also as a person who cooks at home, at work, and wherever I might be with a good knife and a bag of goods.

A lot has been shifting in my life. For those who keep up with this blog, I’m sort of all over the place. I’ve wrestled with the idea of food carts, meaningful work, customer service and what food really means to me.

I’ve (very) recently put in my two weeks notice at my current place of employment. This is a very scary and liberating thing, for reasons I probably won’t get into on here, unless I chat with you more personally from time to time.

It’s not easy to stand up to your boss. They sign your paychecks and can fire you. They are the people you always want to make happy. And when you don’t, they either talk to you or gnaw at you until you just can’t take it anymore.

The food industry is a weird machine. It works with the hopes of that there will be people willing to work for eight dollars an hour. It exists because of this poverty. It’s a “make it by the skin of your teeth” industry too. Profits are usually low, which is why labor needs to be cheap. People like myself, work hard for that eight or nine dollars an hour, for reasons we can’t really explain. Passion is involved usually. It’s an easy business to get sucked into. It’s fast and the affirmation is quick. (Or disappointment, for that matter.)

Some of us work for it in hopes of having our own place. Some of us work because we are in transition with bigger things upon the horizon. Some of us have no idea where we’re going. The food industry is good for these reasons as well. I think I exist in it for most of these reasons.

Our kitchen-12re

And so I sit here moving my fingers without a place to be in two weeks. I have hopes that something will come my way, but also that it will be something I can grow into.

I’m not afraid of working hard. I am afraid of working without that thing that fills me up. I don’t believe in wasting these experiences. They show me how I don’t want to be, and what I don’t want to do. They show me the kind of person I really am.

I’ve spent this whole year learning how to take care of myself. Though this part of the year has been a low, it has shown me that I’m fierce and passionate about what I do.

And I’m proud of that.

So here’s to the inevitable future and that whatever I end up doing, I do it well and with love…

(…and hopefully, get to use butter.)

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