eek eek eek barf.
So I’ve done it.
I took the leap.
I applied for culinary school.
I was accepted right before I left for California.
I turned in my resignation at work last week to give them enough time to find someone new before August 12, my last day.
Today, I go to register for classes.
Every single, freakin’-frackin’ class I need for this fall is full.
Part of me wants to knock the pants off of at least one person in each class who doesn’t want it as much as me and grab their spot and chef hat as it’s spinning on the floor.
But the more sane part simply called the school, asked their suggestions and was told that I just need to keep checking back for openings…every day…until August 5, the day after payment is due, when a few openings probably will come up from people not paying.
So I will keep checking…every gol-darn day. Somehow, I will hopefully squeeze into a few classes. I will submit my resume to bakeries, catering companies and the like to find work, one way or another, this fall. I keep reminding myself that God’s hand has brought me here and has never left me thus far. I have no reason to believe it will.
So in my feeble efforts to staunch my instant nausea and panic-stuffed fear, I am now sitting here, blanched face, stuffing myself with hummus, pita and strawberries in an effort to forget that I might be in a Big, Nasty Bind.
It appears Foot in Mouth is my first dish of culinary school.
[Photo credit here]