I am making serious for real plans to be out of here and working somewhere on the coast by next spring. I can't with my job anymore. I just. cannot. There is only so long I can quietly seethe before I snap (there is an fuckton of drama behind this; tl;dr version, I resent the hell out of the assclown who is our new head chef--it is not just me who feels this way, and INCOMPETENT MANAGERS OH MY). And I am tired of catering, oh god am I sick of it. I need to get back to being a line cook; that's what I am (or was, two and a half years ago...) really good at. Working the line, you come in for your shift, maybe do a bit of prep for your station, make the food on the tickets as they come in, then clean up and go home. With catering it's so fucking drawn out, and I know part of why I am having a terrible time sleeping is because I just can't stop thinking about my job and planning everything I have to do, also worrying that I forgot to do something important.
Guess how much I am looking forward to tomorrow in my state where it is still legal to buy fireworks? DRUNK REDNECKS + EXPLOSIVES. I SEE NOTHING WRONG WITH THIS. I really hope it rains all night tonight like it's supposed to (it's been supposed to rain all week); my parents live in the middle of the fucking woods with lots of pine trees, that in this heat wave are as dry as (for lack of a better simile) tinder. Guess where I'm spending the holiday. :/