anyway. Here we are. Today's um, not regret, but disappointment is related to cooking. My craft, my job for the past five freakin' years, and I'm thinking about it today and feeling sorry that I never got to cook with a mother or a grandmother. All these memoirs I read, all these 'old country' recipes, authors and chefs connected to someone other than themselves who taught them cooking or a love of cooking. Standing in the kitchen next to grandma, or mom; not me. I attempted cooking by myself at a very young age. I remember I was making muffins? Coffee cake??? something that required the gas oven which I obviously did not know how to light. I found that out when the damn oven blew up in my face, singing my eyebrows and torching all the hair off of my arms...Trying to make something for Mom on Mother's day without the slightest idea how to light a damn oven.
So now, in my adult life, I'm a cook, or was a cook since the fucking restaurant has gone out of business due to the gross ineptitude of the owners, and I'm feeling like I'm a cook without passion.
I find myself analyzing everything to do with every part of my life with nothing coming out of that analyzing but regret. Starting with birth and a mother who didn't want me. Then to the adoptive family where I was half of the 'rich man's family' of a boy and a girl. The boy getting all the goodies and attention and me getting brutalized by an Irish mother who thought it was acceptable to beat her children. The father who was just trying to get by and avoid any confrontation with the angry woman he married...Progress right into sexual abuse by 'Uncle Frank.' The sick pervert that my parents had no idea was molesting me on a regular basis while his son molested my adoptive brother on a regular basis, turning him into a gay blade in his adult life. But, that's a whole other story because I haven't seen or heard from brother John since the house in Nutley was sold back in 1997.
So now at the crossroads of finally being done that fucking five years of wasted time with those idiots of Rotten Ralph's and feeling like I've just divorced another loser husband, what do I do now? I'm 60 damn years old for petes sake. More line cooking? All hours of the day and night including overtime??? Let the job hunting begin.
My only saving grace in all of this is my God. I truly believe with all my heart, that my God, my Father, my Abba, will show me the way, will bless me richly when it's time to be blessed and will see me through this mess. Oh, yeah, lets' not forget the drunk driving arrest. Nice goin' Lynn...Guess you didn't know better than to sit at the freakin' restaurant I've been wanting out of for so long, and drink yourself too much rum while being in a state of exhaustion getting into a car wanting to just go home...nice goin'.
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