#6

Quit my job today. It's the fastest I ever quit any job, and it sucks because it was sort of an upscale kitchen and the money was decent and about to get hot since I'd put a good foot forward but one little thing seemed to threaten old problems from old kitchens and yesterday I went and had a bona-fide ticker-pumpin' panic attack. 

Being unable to breathe, wide scared eyes unable to fully process what they see as they roll involuntarily inside the skull and hands trembling so you can't drive a car is what's known as a clear message from the body to ditch out on the scene. So one shitty conversation later I gotta hit the pavement again.

I have to say it cold fucking bites to ditch this way. The kitchen was busy and you could lose yourself in the hard mess real easy and the people were fine to get along with and it was good impressions all around. The kind of place you could see sinking a few years into, like I usually do. They were talking about moving me up, putting me on the line, all very heartening.

But that's what wrecked my nerves, I guess, is sticking around scenes whose value long since bit the dust. And I can't say I haven't heard opening love songs from people that ended up screwing me over. Can't fall into that again, taking abuse for months up to years without doing anything about it. Better tragically early than traumatically late. 

Anyway, can't dwell on it. Time to switch industries, is the takeaway. Tuesday I'll go talk to some old coworkers who have the arrangement more under their purview and should be able to sweeten up a homecoming for me. They look like they're desperate for hands, and I know the deck. 


--JL