Like the outbreak of a plague, no one was prepared when the recession hit. In fact, the government predicted it would be as short lived as Flu season in the fall. But the cold was death in disguise and the recession crept up on those houses in Davey Ray lane like a tsunami wreaking havoc on the rail yard and slowly pulling the shutters of each house shut as it receded. In its wake, the remnants of a rusted chain link fence and an air of melancholy as solemn as a funeral procession. Crab grass and ground ivy grew without check in the front yards where children used to play.
“Some kind of ugly, unaware of what I had become and into my life darkness crept.” Jomo Morris So I’ve moved from one kitchen to another; I had to fight hard to get that job. A year in this position and then the horrible realization that I would never be promoted. I waited and waited and hoped. I went to work each day and pushed my frustration deeper inside. I sought answers, I asked questions, but each day as I clocked in for work, my shame for what I had become, deepened. There was no love; no joy in cooking here, my enthusiasm became ash and gray. I was cooking for money, and into my life darkness crept. I was angry with my chefs, but why should they care? Cooks are easily replaced like an oil change every three thousand miles. The kitchen is relentless, it uses, it pulls you in, and when it has sucked the juices from the shell, it spits you out, for someone younger, more naïve and hopeful. Six months of trolling the internet, scheming and planning, spurts of optimism, bouts of depression. How do I convey being trapped in a job. Yes, I could leave, but my electric company won’t accept pride as payment. I forced myself to stay, even as my job had become a windowless room. Claustrophobic, I could not breathe, I didn’t look forward to waking up and going to work, I was lost. Endless days into nights, the same station, the […]