-Oscar Wilde

Day 4 of school starts tomorrow, and I chuckle silently to myself thinking a few days ago I was bummed I wasn’t going to be able to blog on any kind of regular schedule. Not like I blog often anyway, but still. Suddenly brushing my teeth, going to the bathroom, and showering all at the same time doesn’t seem like such a terrible idea. Okay it’s not that bad. I have never been so blithe, thankful, agog, and just all around in such a joyous whirlwind of emotion as I am right now.

Unlike me, I wasn’t full of butterflies and worry, even the night before school. I was supposed to start in November, but the class wasn’t full, so the anticipation had dwindled over the months to nearly nothing.

I was excited, don’t get me wrong, it just hadn’t sunk in yet that I would be attempting to cut a turnip the size of kosher salt in two days. Turnip attempted, and I live to cut another day. I knew knife work would be most challenging for me. I love to eat detail, but am not a fan of producing it on such a minute level. I’ll cook the chili, you serve me carrots in the shapes of peas. (Yeah, I got that tool, and I can’t wait to use it. I am super nerd.) The thought of some undeserving tool slurping up the brunoise I just spent giving figurative birth to, is too much to handle.  I am sure my opinion will be changing on that very soon. I will learn to serve you, tools.  The amount of care and work that goes into good food is prodigious. Enjoy every moment of your food.

I was anticipating defeat on day two, revived on day three. I have a feeling the whole year will go like this. Forget about being bad at something, I hate being mediocre at anything.  Well, anything I am interested in. Let’s just say if it turned out I wasn’t a good NASCAR driver, I would be none too upset. I would like everything to come naturally to me. I was hoping for hope that my knife skills would be born on that foreign cutting board. All sword and stony, but, alas. I did well, but it is so challenging, which I love as long as I can keep improving.

I was blessed with a chef who couldn’t be more perfect for me. Sense of humor, and a great teacher, not a pompous ass. Everyone in the class is kind, dissimilar, and friendly, except for a few bags of course. Such is life.

Between keeping wrinkle-free, cat hair-free, basically everything-free, catching 2 buses, an hour and a half each way, with my 30lb tool kit, bag of books, learning French, sanitation, history, and a ton of other cool stuff, seeing Jim for only a couple of  hours before he has to go to bed, comforting my lonely cat, reading, and remembering my name, I have no idea when laundry will get done, when I will communicate with friends again, cook besides on the weekend, or just watch TV or listen to music. I know, I know, poor me. I don’t mean to sound all complainy. People are doing this while working, having kids, and other life responsibilities. Almost inconceivable to me. I vent because, well, you are the only people who understand. Jim has met me every night at my bus stop at school, cooked dinner, did the dishes, fed the cat, and listen to me talk about knife cuts with a genuinely interested ear. I could ask for nothing more. Except a car. But seriously, Jim rules.  He wants to make me flash cards 🙂

I know I will get into a groove, and things will settle down. Or they will get crazy worse. Either way I will have the time of my life, because as Chef said, “you will get what you put in”. And I’m all in.

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