All Grown Up

So! I have been away. Away doing things. 

...Grownup things.

That is pretty scary for me, not going to lie. So, here's what happened:

Once upon a time, I went to my local coffee shop. I ordered an iced americano, and proceeded to have a super-productive 20 minutes. I updated a LinkedIn profile I had made two years ago, conducted e-mail business, juggled bills. I was waiting on friends that wouldn't arrive for another hour, so I ordered another iced americano. With an extra shot of espresso, to slow my drinking down. 

This is when I learned that their americanos are made with four shots of espresso anyway. 

Nine espresso shots later, I was anything but slow. I was VIBRATING INTO THE FUTURE!!!! And damn, it felt amazing/terrifying/weird. Kinda like sex for the first time. I am halfway tempted to try that again, just to see if it gets better the second time around. ;)

Anyway, when I updated my LinkedIn, I ha one of those crazy, clarifying moments that screams, "YOU'RE AN ADULT!"

I qualify for jobs I never thought possible. As in, I have managed to acquire the skill set to potentially be an event director of a major hotel chain here. Or a coordinator in LA. I have OPTIONS. For OPPORTUNITIES. For ADULT JOBS. And it blew my mind. I now feel comfortable and confident expressing that. It is still a bit surreal, but I'll take the advantage.

Tuesday, I'm flooding the job market with a shiny, sexy new resume and we'll see what happens next!

In the meantime, I will continue to temper adulthood with stupid ideas. Like 9 shots of espresso. And vodka. Cheers!

Stimulation

It's been a busy night. Saturdays usually are. Somehow I've been lucky the past two nights, and the morning cook has actually done the prep lists I've left him. I struggle to seem busy while my fellow line cooks actually prepare their stations.

About 7pm, we actually start cooking. We have a crapload of reservations, but they're behaving and flowing in steadily.

8:30pm rolls around. One of the owners brings a round of whiskey shots, the first time I've seen this happen here. A food runner gives me an espresso shot immediately after. I feel good. Really good.

12:30am hits. We're just finishing cleaning, and slamming beers in the walk-in. We need the medication after 240 covers that night.

1am. I've been sitting at the bar with my coworkers, coming down off the adrenaline high with more beer and a cigarette. I'm proud. We kicked ass tonight.

Tonight is cooking in a nutshell. Adrenaline, caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol all feed into each other; occasionally balancing out, and ultimately fueling the fire. I can feel myself passing out. I've earned my days off.