Ep. 28: I Am Resident

In recent work news, we've somehow survived The Casserole Apocalypse of 2017, in which All-Star and a vengeful coworker together turned a slightly-dry pasta-based casserole into the End of Days...

Overshare has been seated at an all-male table this month, because apparently his creepy antics have been extended not only to staff but to his fellow residents...

Sir Talksalot has made unrest his prime goal at every breakfast...from heckling the sausage links to screaming about waiting 40 seconds for me to rush to his aide in a "Vitamin Emergency"...

I tried unwisely to "fix" a client complaint by explaining how I don't read minds and must be told there's a problem...I shouldn't have to overhear it...and that circular conversation left me so frustrated I practically threw Sweet and Low packets at Sugarfree when she requested them. Clearly my unchecked work-related emotions are beginning to interfere with my job performance...

To top it off, I had the GREAT PLEASURE of serving former resident Mr. Placemats at our free community breakfast last Friday. "Honey," he called me in that slurred, drunk-sounding voice of his, eyes glazed over like a hungry seagull stalking a piece of wonderbread. Ick and double ick.

Then my "dream menu" got about 25% finished before I stopped operating in denial and faced the fact that it's never gonna happen...because no matter what we do our residents will never be content...

I hear them ranting about the election and politics...and then confessing that they didn't bother voting. So why do you get to complain, I wonder?

I hear them complaining about cold oatmeal. If you leave it sit while you yak, and then pour cream all over it, it's bound to get cold. If you want it reheated, tell me. But if you make no move to change things, you should not get to complain!!

And that's when I realize...that I'm just like our residents in this respect. I Am Resident. Here I am, complaining about having to serve these people, but making no effort to change the situation.

The dream menu will never happen.
And even if it did, people would still find something to rant about.

So maybe the solution is that I need to not work there anymore. Or I need to work there less...

"If you always do what you've always done, then you'll always get what  you've always got."

Time to break the cycle?

Time to formulate an escape...

--

People are people, no matter their age. Some will be kind, curious, rude, condescending, bitter, or funny, and so on. I’m an “old people chef,” and this is my journal.

Ep. 22: Escape

People are people, no matter their age. Some will be kind, curious, rude, condescending, bitter, or funny, and so on. I’m an “old people chef,” and this is my journal.
--

Recycling
About midmorning,
amid smells of coffee and egg bake
and fried ham and steaming orange muffins,

I gather up the recycling
and head for the door,
a momentary escape:

In summer
I swim through suffocating humidity,
carboard in one hand,
imaginary snorkel in the other,
cottonwood leaves in the grove glimmering.

In fall
the crisp breeze carries
the tang of burning leaves
and thoughts of hay bales and hot cider.

Now, today,
the first snow swirls around me
as I walk
and watch
the scenery coated in white.

Pine and cinnamon and red ribbon
eclipse thoughts of dreary frozen smudged January ahead.

For now it is November and holidays are near.
Winter is here.

(copyright EA Schueller)

Word Smithing

Axe the shapeless thoughts from the mind-corners,
hold them in your hand,
at first only shards of metal scattered and clouded with dirt.
Heat the thought-ore in the forge,
Fold the molten words over again and again,
Hammer them into shape on the anvil,
Sparks flying in the dark of night
Like stars above
Or fireflies below.

The molten phrases plunge into cold water
and a rush a steam hisses upward.
Then there is the scrape of metal on stone as the edge is sharpened,
and gleaming steel words, thick and sure and razor-teethed, rest in your hands.

Or maybe not a cutting sword-phrase today.
Perhaps instead make hinges and a cast iron handle,
for opening a door and stepping out.

(copyright E.A.Schueller)