Desert, Dessert and Berlin..

So I nearly got mugged. No joke.. As I left work, I approached my vehicle and noticed that two short people were drinking out of paper bags and sitting on the curb. As I drew near, they jumped to their feet, and I heard the click of a switchblade. I first intended to jump into my car and speed away, but for some reason I gathered up all the testicular fortitude I could muster and ventured a "How are ya?" which was met by an Irish sounding "Fine mate, and yourself?".. Oh great. We have Pikeys at the Best Western.. Well, I bid good night to the Pikeys, and went home..

It is often the case when working in an any environment that you will develop a dislike for some of the people in it. This is not the case in my kitchen, but there is an animosity between kitchen people and the house keepers. In the pecking order, they are below us. Many do not speak English, and the ones that do are not the sort of people you would feel comfortable letting into your home. My main complaint is that they are required to bring a cart of plates, cups and utensils back to the kitchen after their shift.. Plates cups and utensils which I am responsible for. They consistently fail to do this, and either I or one of the cooks is forced to do it for them. I therefor thought it would be a good idea to remind them of their duty, so I penned a short note for the purpose, with the illustration you see above. In fact, I penned several of them and stuck them all over their little room. Problem solved.

Well. here I am. In 6 hours I get to work the breakfast shift.. I am not looking forward to it. Although I am happy with my current employment, I am going to a job fair at Keene State on Thursday to see if I can do better than groundskeeper there. I think with a little charm and cunning, I could wrangle a cook position. Unfortunately as I possess neither quality, I may be stuck. However dish washing jobs are available and I will see if they pay better then what I currently make.

"Do what you love, and you will never work a day in your life".. I once complained about this statement, but I would rather never work a day in my life than something I was told today by an aspiring philosopher I work with, who noted that "You should see work as a break from life, and life as a break from work." This way of thinking can be used to cover up the fact that you hate your job, or your life. I do not aspire to hate either. It is perhaps time that I took more of an example from my own family.. My father, like his father was born into being a factory worker, and for a while he was. However, as I am sitting in his huge house and typing on his expensive computer, it is clear that he no longer is. My mother was born to be a seamstress in Jersey City, but instead followed her dream and went to college to become a highschool teacher and even now continues to study education. With parents like mine, how can I do anything but love what I do, and do what I love? All I need to do is find exactly how to do what I love, learn to do it better, fail, start again and do it even better. Something I would love to do right now is sleep, so I will see you tomorrow.