Oh. My. God. I am tired. Exhausted. Fatigued. Cansadísima.
I started an internship – or “stage,” if we are to utilize the correct mot français– on Thursday night, at a chichi French eatery. Having been treated to a special birthday lunch there by the mister, it was my first choice when it came time to apply for an internship. It is magnifique! The food is très délicieux! A splendid treat for the eyes and palate! And of course, working there is nothing at all like dining there.
There is no chef, nor sous-chef, there at the moment, the former having departed to start his own chichi place and the latter – not sure, but the point is he’s not there anymore. In a way, this is good because I’ll probably get to do more than peel potatoes. Even with no one at the helm the menu remains intact and the dishes continue to amaze and delight but at the same time, the disorder is perceptible, even to a novice.
I decided to do a double-shift on Saturday, which meant a 16-hour day. It was too much, but my reasoning was that I should be there early to do some prep work and stay late to experience the dinner rush. Now I see that my reasoning was folly, but now I feel like I can’t back out. I don’t like to be that person who says “I’m tired, I can’t do this.” So I have to suck it up, right? I can do it, right? Right?
P.S.
I made crêpes Suzette and beignets aux pommes (apple fritters) today and they scrumdiddilyumptuous!
