This is a post from a couple of years ago. I was happily working in the kitchen of a convent. It was a delightful job, and this sort of takes me back to that. Since then, I've quit working in preparation for the move out west and have begun to consolidate my old blog onto this one. :] enjoy!
So.. Today I went to work at six thirty... A.M, meaning in the morning for those of you who need further clarification. While most people were waking up out of a coma, I was watching the morning unfold from behind a kitchen window. Contrary to my belief prior to today, morning shift kicks a lot of arse. Serving delicious meals to old [gracefully aged] ladies is substantially cooler in the morning, more so than at any other time of the day. There was not a single thing that could've made my day better. [not including large quantities of money, fame or butter pecan ice cream.]
Being the first into the kitchen has an odd and calming effect on a person. Maybe it's the oven whirring, or the coffee's 'drip, drip'. I can only describe it as being assigned the privilege of cleaning the slate in the front of the classroom, and clapping out the erasers before life's tasks dirty it once again. You may not look forward to it at first, but you secretly love watching the remnants of past words and symbols fly away into the playground air, making room for a new day.
So.. Today I went to work at six thirty... A.M, meaning in the morning for those of you who need further clarification. While most people were waking up out of a coma, I was watching the morning unfold from behind a kitchen window. Contrary to my belief prior to today, morning shift kicks a lot of arse. Serving delicious meals to old [gracefully aged] ladies is substantially cooler in the morning, more so than at any other time of the day. There was not a single thing that could've made my day better. [not including large quantities of money, fame or butter pecan ice cream.]
Being the first into the kitchen has an odd and calming effect on a person. Maybe it's the oven whirring, or the coffee's 'drip, drip'. I can only describe it as being assigned the privilege of cleaning the slate in the front of the classroom, and clapping out the erasers before life's tasks dirty it once again. You may not look forward to it at first, but you secretly love watching the remnants of past words and symbols fly away into the playground air, making room for a new day.
There is nothing like brewing a fresh pot of coffee [ or three] while watching the dew drip from the awakening trees, or while watching mother nature slowly open her eyes to the day ahead. unfortunately I think a large portion of this awe and wonder was caused by my sudden 'cease in fire' shall we say, against my addiction to caffeine. Just when i had kicked the coffee.... i started firing again. And when i say "firing" i mean that my brain probably went into a frenzy sending neurons into motion, creating the awe and amazement of everything that came my way. Regardless of whatever caused it, I like it....i REALLY like it,And if it takes large quantities of caffeine and waking up a few hours earlier than the average 20 something... i am willing. Sign me up for that, I dont even need to read the fine print.
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