Fuck. I'm beat. Sore all over. Chemotherapy has been riding my ass for a good 6 weeks now but the end is in sight. 3 more weeks of ass rapeage, and it's all over. Unless I get shit-tastic news that I need to prolong the chemo because my nurses have been giving me horse cum instead of chemo. Regardless of what happens, I need to get by this because just recently I have been promoted to the night chef at my new place, The Homeway. I don't know, I have been getting mixed feelings about the rapid progression from being a dick sucking prep guy, to a shitty sandwich maker and now a menu producing chef. Sure, I don't doubt my ability to learn and cook really fast, and (sometimes) good, but I do know that I'm still green in the culinary world. I feel as if I'll never stop growing, or learning for that matter. All I could really do is put my best into the upcoming menu, and hope that people enjoy my food and as they eat what I cook, they know that I put my all into it. However, this being my first serious position in the kitchen brigade, I don't want it to end here. I don't know how long I'll be there, or even in Toronto for that matter, because I'm always going to be a sponge, learning the crafts of those around me so that one day, I'll open a restaurant that will satisfy my needs and the bellies of the people around me.
