What I want and what I have

What do I want?

More money, but that's a given. I took a massive paycut when I moved back to Michigan. The money I make is all right, but I should be making more. I shouldn't be working 70 hours a week to get a check equivalent to 38 hours' worth of Austin pay. But, after showing Chef Marc some little things he could do to help promote business better, I think that the money situation will improve soon.

Stability. I haven't had a whole lot of that in my crazy, chaotic life. I still don't have a permanent address, even though I've been back in this state for two months. Again, something I'm working on. A permanent address will help, along with a car (hopefully to be obtained in two and a half weeks with my non-bill paycheck). I already have a steady job, so that's the first step.

More time with my sons. Despite the fact that they only live five miles from me, I only get to see them once a week, due to their school and my work schedule. Hopefully that will also improve once I have a car. We shall see.

A boyfriend who actually acts like a boyfriend. I need someone who will text back, who can understand that I have depression issues, especially in February (anniversary of my brother Scotty's death is on Thursday, and it's already surrounding me in a black funk), who'll put forth just as much effort as I do, who will hold me and make me feel beautiful and safe, and who will be able to deal with the passion and the fire that I have burning inside me, and not just treat me like something to be placed on a shelf and admired from afar, or neglected until it's convenient for him. I need someone I can see more than once a week, who won't always take the passive route or the road of most convenience, who isn't scared to fight for me, and who will have my back because, Darwin knows, if I'm in a relationship with someone and I feel loved, you'd best believe I've got their back. I can't count how many times I got defensive toward my beloved big brother over the guy mentioned in the last post.

A car. Convenience and independence. I hate relying on anyone for anything, and it kills me asking for rides to the store and to and from work. I hate it. I know that "no man is an island," but I'll be damned if I can't be a nifty little peninsula.


What do I have?

I have passion. I have fire. I have determination. I have the vision to see what I'm capable of achieving, and the strength of will to do what it takes. I have the motivation to provide better for myself, to keep plugging away until I've obtained everything I want to achieve. I have a decided talent for cooking and baking, and the eye of an artist when it comes to plating. I have the ability to read a list of ingredients and be able to taste the finished product in my mind. I have a creativity that wasn't stifled with a culinary degree, but instead was nurtured by learning all my skills on the job. I have burns and scars that attest to my years in this industry, and a speed with a knife that backs up the testimony of every brown and white mark on my hands and arms. I have a thick-boned frame covered in muscle from all the gymnastics I have to do as a five-feet-tall woman in a professional kitchen set up for 5'10" men. I have the vocabulary of a well-educated sailor, and a tolerance for comments that would offend most people. I have a bit of a drawl from my year in Texas, and a bit of an Irish lilt that I believe is just genetic memory.

I have a stable residence for now. I have computer and Internet, and there is food in my belly. I have a steady job with coworkers who love me. I have the care and respect of the three chefs I work for. I have hazel eyes I inherited from my mother, broad shoulders from my father, and a crooked smile that is entirely my own. I have a working knowledge of "kitchen Spanish" and a taste in music almost as diverse as my circle of close friends, who can be found all over the country. I have an amazing amount of living I've packed into the last 30 years and 8 months.

I'm doing all right. If I could just kick this loneliness's ass, and maybe get a chance to talk to my Scotty one more time on the phone, just to tell him how much I've achieved in the almost-two years he's been gone, I'd be golden.