From: Ceels
Subject: panic served three ways, with a warm side plate of fear and denial.
Oh mi god,
Steven just re-did the roster for the week after next and I am not on it. In two weeks I am going to be a chick all on her own with no job and no hair.
WHAT AM I GOING TO DO?
This is a shocking tragedy. When I said I wanted to leave I didn't think it was going to be so sudden. What if I’ve changed my mind?
And here was I worrying about the washing machine (which appears to have taken up a vendetta against my favourite skirt. It keeps dumping grease on it then refusing to do the spin cycle while it is in there) I haven't finished paying off my uniform yet. What if I don't have enough money, what if I can't get it clean enough to give back?
What will I do while I don't have a job. I don't know if I know how to relax any more (any kind hearted person wanting to give massages to poor aching chefs?). I can't go yet, what will I have to complain about.
But it would be kinda nice to leave, I am pretty much over all the politics in the kitchen and getting up early in the morning after working the night before and carrying a couple of hundred kilograms of fruit and veg up and down the stairs.
The kind of stress we had the other night can't be good for you. It is giving me wrinkles. I’m tired all the time.
Maybe Sal is right and i should take a week off to look for jobs and relax.
I’ll miss everybody there.
I'll be a free woman in two weeks
WHO WANTS TO HELP ME CELEBRATE?
love ceels
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