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Getting back to business

First day back in the kitchen today. First day back of trying to cook ten things at once rather than just the one. First day of remembering that yes, when you're doing it for money you have to chop fast. First burn from hot saute pan. I enjoyed it all. Particularly inscribing "Matt is Ace" in the top of the apple crumble I made, hungover, first thing this morning before hurling it into the bowels of the oven. Cute newish waitress B3cky is unable to meet my eye after our contretemps at the start of yesterday's lunch shift when I'd been attempting to observe the three minute's silence for the tsunami victims (why, I don't rightly know, it salves my scarred conscience for some reason. And yes, I did donate some money, so now I can join in the national orgy of self-congratulation at us "big-hearted Brits" a clusterfuck of national compassion of a nauseating cast. By all means give some money, but there's no need to join the fucking Rotarians, and put down that loudhailer for the love of God). She had been unable to understand my silence, despite all my doubtless utterly lucid eye-rolling and pointing at the clock and kept talking, talking, talking, about her boyfriend, her other job, how drunk she'd got the night before. With only a few seconds of the silence to go I lost my temper and snapped at her to shut up as it was supposed to be silent period of fucking reflection and I really didn't give a rooster's scrotum as to how drunk her Dad has to get before he hits her mum, and if she was that worried about losing her boyfriend why didn't she simply cheat on him first in a pre-emptive strike?

We've not really been on speaking terms since, which is a blessed relief.

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