Reality Check

I was feeling pretty positive following Monday's night of chicken; several of the items our table presented for evaluation were good and in the debrief following the night Chef told us (I should have taken this as a WARNING:) that he grades tough. But...in my chicken enduced high, I didn't listen.

Just like a scary movie you don't want to watch but find you can't pull yourself away from, I just had to log in to the school online grading system to check my class grade.

Thinking that I would certainly get a better grade than the 80 I received for the prior week I quickly went to week 6 and ..... what!?  78.  That's right. 78.

Okay.  Here's the real deal.  I was terrible in high school, and when I say terrible, I mean really bad. Didn't care. Didn't study. Did NOT want to be there.  There were maybe 400 in my graduating class and I graduated roughly # 382.  I kid you not.  My grades were so bad that I destroyed the only copy I had of my transcripts.  The fact that I graduated was the only thing that mattered to me because I wasn't going to college anyway. It didn't matter.

But now it does.

That grade has driven me absolutely crazy all week and I was miserable on Tuesday. So miserable that I cried during GLEE.  What?  I am not a crier.  At all.  Imagine what I could have done with my life if I had cared this much during high school? Oh where was the passion then?

Then I started reading Kitchen Confidendial and now everything is making sense to me.  I am the problem. Not my cooking. Me. My mouth and probably everything about the way I am. 

There is a heiarchy in the kitchen, a heiarchy I was unaware of.   We are to do what we are told, I don't believe questions are really encouraged, and we are to be quick, efficient and CLEAN and tidy.  I must possess a new strategy. No more laughing or talking. It's work fast and be efficient. If another student asks me a question I will suggest they go ask Chef for the answer.

My only fear is that my head will explode. But....if I get a higher grade next week by zipping my mouth, keeping my area very clean and not asking a lot of question, I will have solved the mystery.

The food I prepare is good - I think they just don't like me.