I’ve vowed to work 23 Sundays at the steakhouse. I’ve made it though four and I want to hang up my food-spattered apron. How is this different from culinary school? It’s not. My expectations for school were high and then, once my education commenced, I hated it. I hated it until sometime between week 5 and week 10. Something clicked, something changed. Sometime in April or May, I got the hang of it, built my confidence, and became relatively comfortable. I just have to muscle through; tough it out. Eventually, I will find my stride, even here.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment