![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
This is the long-distance call
Jul. 11th, 2007 08:06 pmOn Coping:
Somehow, in June, a monumental mistake was made, and I was given a job as a cook. I've never been much of one for cooking. Oh, I can stir things and chop things and such, but concepts such as 'done', 'enough' and 'season to taste' have always baffled and intimidated me; I generally volunteer to do the washing-up instead. But, much to my surprise, I am handling it okay. Not only that, I am beginning to get more confident with my own cooking at home. A few days ago I made roast vegetables.
The most difficult part of this job, though, is the time-pressure aspect. I can handle one or two orders at a time just fine, but any more than that inspires an overwhelming sense of OMGZ PANIC, and I can feel my heart start to race, and my hands start to shake--and that just makes everything worse. Today, though, there was a big rush, and with a little help from Nicola and Maria it went through without a hitch.
On 'TMI':
The last entry I wrote was 'private'. This is partially because I had planned the title of this entry when I wrote the last one (it fits, damn it; and I am not so much of a nerd...), and it disturbed the continuity. But mostly it's because I don't think anyone particularly wants to hear my musings on the effects of the birth control pill. Which is fair enough. But I really don't like having a 'private' entry on LJ, because it seems to me that it kind of defeats the purpose of putting it online in the first place. I have a paper journal for things that are actually private, but I generally only use it for really important things, not stuff about my body.
And yet 'stuff about my body' is important. It's a big part of my life (obviously), which is why my little complaints often end up on LJ and cause my sister's cries of TMI! TMI! Besides, it's often intermingled with things besides the gory details, and some people might want to read about things like, in this case, my experiences with the Pill--had I heard of these particular side effects, I certainly might not have been so keen to try it. I suppose I could just put stuff behind cuts. But a whole entry? Ah, fuck it. I'll just move it here.
( Cut for TMI: On The Birth-Control Pill )
And finally:
I've been listening to a lot of Byrds covers of Bob Dylan songs recently. They are bloody awful: poppy and bland, completely stripped of any soul. I love Gene Clark, but I think he did better when paired with bluegrass-twangy Doug Dillard than the fucking mainstream-hippie butterfly bullshit that was The Byrds.I still love 'Turn, Turn, Turn'.
Somehow, in June, a monumental mistake was made, and I was given a job as a cook. I've never been much of one for cooking. Oh, I can stir things and chop things and such, but concepts such as 'done', 'enough' and 'season to taste' have always baffled and intimidated me; I generally volunteer to do the washing-up instead. But, much to my surprise, I am handling it okay. Not only that, I am beginning to get more confident with my own cooking at home. A few days ago I made roast vegetables.
The most difficult part of this job, though, is the time-pressure aspect. I can handle one or two orders at a time just fine, but any more than that inspires an overwhelming sense of OMGZ PANIC, and I can feel my heart start to race, and my hands start to shake--and that just makes everything worse. Today, though, there was a big rush, and with a little help from Nicola and Maria it went through without a hitch.
On 'TMI':
The last entry I wrote was 'private'. This is partially because I had planned the title of this entry when I wrote the last one (it fits, damn it; and I am not so much of a nerd...), and it disturbed the continuity. But mostly it's because I don't think anyone particularly wants to hear my musings on the effects of the birth control pill. Which is fair enough. But I really don't like having a 'private' entry on LJ, because it seems to me that it kind of defeats the purpose of putting it online in the first place. I have a paper journal for things that are actually private, but I generally only use it for really important things, not stuff about my body.
And yet 'stuff about my body' is important. It's a big part of my life (obviously), which is why my little complaints often end up on LJ and cause my sister's cries of TMI! TMI! Besides, it's often intermingled with things besides the gory details, and some people might want to read about things like, in this case, my experiences with the Pill--had I heard of these particular side effects, I certainly might not have been so keen to try it. I suppose I could just put stuff behind cuts. But a whole entry? Ah, fuck it. I'll just move it here.
( Cut for TMI: On The Birth-Control Pill )
And finally:
I've been listening to a lot of Byrds covers of Bob Dylan songs recently. They are bloody awful: poppy and bland, completely stripped of any soul. I love Gene Clark, but I think he did better when paired with bluegrass-twangy Doug Dillard than the fucking mainstream-hippie butterfly bullshit that was The Byrds.
