The work days have been brutal, to say the least. Problems attacking from the flanks, got an arrogant divisional chef on my ass, who thinks he is a 7-Star General in his little fantasy world, and a regional chef on my back, who I believe is a company gal alll the way. A non-existent budget which I was never given in December 07 suddenly becomes the issue at hand from my superiors. Prelude to a screwed-up scenario? The word from corporate was "DO WHATCHA GOTTA DO" to keep ops afloat, quality cuisine on the table, and staffing shortages resolved by February 08. Post screwed-up scenario? The word from corporate now (after I've made gains and pulled ops up from a barreling nosedive into the plummets of crappiness) is "WHY SO MUCH? GET IT TOGETHER OR SHIP OUT." My employer annoys me, maybe they're trying to destroy me. And I'm feeling very unappreciated here...but, oh well, it's Machiavellian politics anywhere you go. I'll figure something out by February-March or I'll pack my bags and steer a new ship with better crew and executive company.
Personal life, however, is wonder-fabulous-ful. No complaints there, but I do wish I had more personal time for some soul searching, quiet evenings and lazy Sundays, and a few spectacular sunsets. I've been slowly shrugging off my guy friends and skipping the parties as I wind down for February: Battlefield Valentine, as I call it. Too many women calling, too, and I think the V-day bug will be going around. I've been seeing a sweet gal from town but other than that I'm still the confirmed bachelor, and still uncomfortable in the relationship I have with moi. To compound matters, I've been a little too critical, I feel, of myself. It started with the skipping work-outs, lack of reading time, and poor home diet. I eat like a king at work but a pauper in my own pad. How ironic for a chef, I think.
It's a variety of things, really. Work, personal issues, and work. Can't really blame women, can't blame my guys, and can't really blame the moon-tidal patterns. It all starts at the center of my own universe, which I've justified in a quantum physical treatise...forever blaming the black hole of my heart; Lonely Planet.
Enough for today, finit.
Personal life, however, is wonder-fabulous-ful. No complaints there, but I do wish I had more personal time for some soul searching, quiet evenings and lazy Sundays, and a few spectacular sunsets. I've been slowly shrugging off my guy friends and skipping the parties as I wind down for February: Battlefield Valentine, as I call it. Too many women calling, too, and I think the V-day bug will be going around. I've been seeing a sweet gal from town but other than that I'm still the confirmed bachelor, and still uncomfortable in the relationship I have with moi. To compound matters, I've been a little too critical, I feel, of myself. It started with the skipping work-outs, lack of reading time, and poor home diet. I eat like a king at work but a pauper in my own pad. How ironic for a chef, I think.
It's a variety of things, really. Work, personal issues, and work. Can't really blame women, can't blame my guys, and can't really blame the moon-tidal patterns. It all starts at the center of my own universe, which I've justified in a quantum physical treatise...forever blaming the black hole of my heart; Lonely Planet.
Enough for today, finit.
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