tired, cranky & wanting a ballgown

what day is this, the 16th? which i think makes 16 days in a row, on my way to 24. getting a bit weary and cranky, the crankiness focusing on small irritations such as 'why can't b or l get off their butts and shovel the damn snow off the front walk? it's been there for days, they don't work 12 hours a day, they were off yesterday, why doesn't it occur to either of them to shovel the damn walk. a lot of energy goes into this, energy that could be better used elsewhere, so i will work on that today as i pack truffles into boxes, make new truffles and temper chocolate. ho ho ho.

took a break last night and went to the symphony with Bev - it was one of their xmas concerts, and was broadcast on channel 7 or 4. it was good, our seats overlooked the stage, the soprano's voice was lovely and her gown was fantastic. why don't we all have ballgowns? i learned that the nose bleed section runs 10-12 dollars, which makes it comparable with going to the movies, unless you get popcorn, which would make the symphony cheaper. maybe i'll start getting the culture once in a while. it's kind of fun to dress up. aside from the i-have-nothing-to-wear meltdown that happened friday night, during which b tried to tell me that flats would go with a cocktail dress. she backed off of that when i pointed out that even i am not that fashion-impaired. i'd like to blame the meltdown on being so tired, but fashion meltdown happens anytime i try to put together something that isn't jeans or chefpants.

spending time with bev was fun; we spent a lot of time checking out outfits and shoes. There were some very hot shoes - the red plaid heels were dynamite. i also enjoyed all the little girls in their velvet and taffeta; my favorite was the poufy red chiffon with glittery snowflakes. one little girl looked as if she had just come from the chorus of the Nutcracker - long filmy gold skirt, gold ballet flats, wreath of tiny golden flowers on her head. I felt a bit jealous; she looked charming. If I went out like that, it would just be sad. Grownups need more opportunities to wear gowns and tiaras, filmy chiffons, and sparkly red shoes.

Years ago, I went to a performance of the ballet Dracula. A young woman in the audience was wearing a vintage satin ballgown and a tiara; she's what i remember most about that evening. Not Dracula, not the performance, but a vision of loveliness a few seats away.

sometimes

sometimes i wish i lived by myself. no roommates, just puppy and the fish. the kitchen sink has been dripping for a while. b's solution has been to turn the hot water off unless it's being used. she gets all weepy and scared when told she needs to deal with it; it's her house. i said i'd help her with it, but she needs to take the initiative. last night i came home after yet another 11 hour day to find that someone had put a dish bucket in the kitchen sink and left it to catch the drips. it was overflowing into the sink. a couple more hours it would have overflowed onto the counter. i got soaking wet trying to empty it enough to lift. i left it on the counter with a note - the faucet is fixed, whoever left this in the sink can deal with it. i haven't seen either of them today; i left for work before they got up. tonight b is at a party, and l hasn't come out of her room. whether it's l trying to make a point to b, or one or both of them being passive-aggressive, i'm the one who got stuck with the mess. again. i didn't want to go to the hardware store and fix the damn faucet after working all day. deal with water everywhere while the culprits were off at a party.
they have their good points. i love them. but today i wanted to just stay at work rather than come home. i was calculating how much it would cost to live on my own. whether or not to take puppy. i learned while housesitting for chef that i can't leave puppy for a long time anymore, so she'd have to come with me. or i stay here until she dies. which could be years, happily she's a very healthy girl. i don't think i want to stay here for years. i don't like feeling obligated to stay here. i don't like that l doesn't pay rent. it's b's business, but it affects me. if l was paying her share, mine (and b's )would go down. i'm tired of l getting to impose her standards of cleanliness on the whole household - wtf. i'm sorry her mom's a crazy filthy packrat whose house is infested with vermin, but that doesn't mean everyone has to cater to l's compulsions. i really don't care if a dish or two is left in the sink overnight; it won' t keep me up.
i don't like living here right now. i don't feel like putting up with b's need for physical affection. sometimes i just don't want to be touched.
sometimes i just want to find my stuff in the same place i left it. i want my stuff where i want it. sometimes i just want my own space. my own physical space, not just a page in cyberspace.
sometimes, i just want to be left the hell alone.

the accidental sous-chef

sous chef: from the french, meaning 'under'. second in command, answers to the chef, runs the kitchen in the chef's absence, assists station chefs /line cooks as necessary. hopefully knows more about what's going on than the people she's responsible for.

we're working toward a new way of managing errands, one that will enable Chef to spend more time in the kitchen with us, training us, being a chef. in the sense of 'boss cook'. He runs most errands himself, he said that i'm more valuable in the kitchen. i said that his presence is needed, that i don't know everything, i just know less of nothing than the people i'm directing. and Chef said "yes, and I've been depending on you for everything". i'm glad he recognizes that. and that he recognizes part of his job is to train us. because i'm a bit overwhelmed right now. this is my first holiday season with both a store and a website. some major orders are in process. 3360 truffles for one order alone. 1000 for another. we're on the verge of becoming the official chocolatier of the Slovenian Ambassador . it's a lot.

and i feel slow, and inefficient, and overwhelmed. completely left out of all the baking. and somehow, without ever wanting to, i'm largely responsible for running the show. we don't have titles, but Ron said it. "Chef's gone, you're telling people what to do and how to do it - you're the sous-chef." a position people work years to achieve, and i'm in it one year after graduation. supervising people with more education and experience. it's uncomfortable. and unavoidable. i'm having the uneasy feeling that astrology and numerology may be right, and leadership is my destiny. i'll have to develop a better style of management than i had at ddfl - you suck, stop it- really is not an effective strategy.

i wanted to be a pastry cook. maybe some far-off day a pastry chef. yet here i am combining entry level skill with a supervisory position. suddenly, it seems rather familiar. i think i've done this before.