Archive for January, 2009

Ho. Lee. Cow.

I am SORE. Not fun sore. SORE sore.

Tonight was my first night working a section by myself (third day, no shadowing, I RAWK!) and it was insanely busy. Normally we have a menu, plus a daily special, that residents can order from. Tonight, however, was “Theme Night”. Set menu. Only two choices in main dishes, starches, veggies and desserts. Truth be told, it was swank.

The meal started with smoked salmon with a dill cream sauce, then they got a shrimp bisque that was to die for, followed by a salad our manager (from here on out known as JD) got from Bon Apetit  (the December issue if you’re a curious little foodie). Entrees were either rack of lamb or sea bass. Starches were mashed yukon gold potatoes with leeks and garlic or Hassleback potatoes (which looked better than they do in this blog’s pic but that’s the best I could do). Vegetables were roasted root vegetables (onions, carrots, parsnips, etc) or wilted spinach with almonds. For dessert they had white chocolate tiramisu or cappuccino creme brulee. The residents started the night with wine and cheese outside the dining room, and then migrated in.

Told you it was swank.

On a normal night we can put in our orders via computer and tell the chefs when we want them. Not tonight. Tonight, as soon as it went in, it came up. The chefs were not playing.

The sections are usually just four tables, my section was four tables at the farthest end of the dining room. This meant a lot of dodging other waitstaff and residents. And because everything was served in a specific order, it also meant a lot of running back and forth.

I messed up the order for the first table (I wasn’t sure what to put certain items in as). They all wanted the root vegetables and ended up with spinach. JD, bless his big Greek heart, helped me a lot with that one. He ran back into the kitchen and got their vegetables for me. After that, though I was pretty well on a roll.

At one point we ran out of salads, then at the same time salad dressing. Then we were out of soup cups. This set me back with my last table so they ended up not getting their meal until late. Oops.

The great thing is that most of these residents are really cool people. They’re really involved in the day-to-day functions of the facility (it’s independent care, which means they can take care of themselves but need a little help now and then) and as soon as they found out I was new they cut me some serious slack.

Unfortunately today I finally discovered the downside of my new job: it’s taking the time I normally spend with The Kid.

I work from 4pm-8pm. The Kid gets out of school at 3:20. This means as soon as I pick her up, I drop her off and split; and as soon as I get home, it’s her bedtime. The Man sent me a text message this morning telling me that she cried last night because she missed me.

She’s used to having me around during the evenings. Even when I worked at the shawarma shack I was home by 5:30 and the rest of the night was spent together.  Now the job takes away that time. I decided to talk to her teacher about spending a few days in the classroom as a volunteer. This way I’ll be spending some extra time with her and she’ll feel special because her mom is in the room.

BTW, my kid will be student of the week in her classroom next week. Rawk on. 🙂


First Day was my first day at work. YIPPEEEE! I was trained by a guy that I later found out was quitting. That was a bummer. I made sure to find out why he was quitting. It basically boiled down to the fact that because he moved he was now driving an hour to get to work. Yeah I totally get why he is quitting. He annoyed me a bit. He did everything as though it bored him or was beneath him. My other coworkers are a very cool bunch. So far.

Today happened to be a fairly slow day, which was good. It sucks when you’re running around like mad on your first day. You don’t get to learn your job the way you’re supposed to like that.

The residents were really nice. It was a little disconcerting at first. It’s been a long time since I worked with the elderly. Working in restaurants usually means dealing with people under the age of 65 90% of the time. Still it’s good to be back in a kitchen. Sure it’s hot, stuffy and humid as hell. But I’m totally comfortable in kitchens. It’s where I started my working life. It makes sense that when I was having a hard time finding a job I’d be back in one.

The main downside to the whole night was the fact that I lost an amethyst that was in the ring I was wearing.

Now, before any of you get it into your pretty little heads that this is some sort of “omen”, it’s not. I knew the setting was loose and I was stupid enough to wear it anyway. I feel bad because 1. it was a graduation gift from my mom and 2. I REALLY liked that one. Next gem and jewelry show I’m going to see if I can snag another one and have it reset.

I ended the night with a lovely soreness in my legs that let me know I was getting a little out of practice on the waitressing tip. I probably won’t be able to move in the morning, but that’s ok. I love the soreness that comes from a hard days’ (or evenings’ as it were) work.

I got home to find The Kid already knocked out, The Man on his way to bed for a pre-midnight shift nap and beat-toy wanting to drop by and chat after the local group’s monthly dinner (which I missed 😦 ). beat-toy bought me the Two Knotty Boy’s book as a gift (and probably as a hint too), but he had it shipped to his house instead of mine, which meant he had to drop it off. The Man is still a little uneasy about this aspect of my personality, but he’s becoming a little more accepting about it. While I was chatting with beat-toy (in his car, since The Kid was sleep), The Man sent me a message asking if beat-toy was my sub. I had to laugh. I told him no, he’s a sub, but not mine specifically.

beat-toy and I are actually pretty good friends, if you put the other stuff aside. We bitch and moan to each other about how much life sucks. He’s a really good guy. Problem is he doesn’t have enough patience in himself, or confidence. My ultimate goal is to help him gain some. No small task, but then I never went for the easy wins.


So yesterday I did my orientation for the new job (we’ll call it GH). It lasted from 9am to 130pm and I was exhausted and hungry by the end. They served coffee (which was weak) and muffins, but that was it. No lunch. Just hours of overview and paperwork. On the upside, my ID pic doesn’t look too bad.

Because of my positions hours, I don’t qualify for health, dental, or vision benefits. However that’s easily remedied by simply picking up another shift on a permanent basis. But that will come with time. What I am eligible for are all the kick ass perks that come with being an employee at GH. I get to use their exercise room, I can set an appointment for a massage and have the payment ($55 for an hour or $35 for a half an hour) deducted from my paycheck. They have a foundation which awards scholarships to employees that want to go back to school (SCORE!). I have access to the hair salon (yeah, not doing that though). Not to mention a lot of stuff that the residents association does a yearly monetary gift to employees.

The job, the facility, the employees. Everything feels so damn GOOD. I hope it stays that way.


Ok, here’s the thing. Thanks to the growing popularity of Twitter, this blog has come to the attention of a few people that know me and The Man personally. And fact is, there is some things they just don’t need to know about me. I’m trying to decide what to do about that.

In the mean time if you want to read a protected post you’ll have to email me for the password csverdad (at) gmail (daht) com. Be warned, just because you email and ask for it doesn’t mean you’ll get it.

Protected: Yeah I know…I know…really long time

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