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I am 18, and a cook.
Not a unheard of concept, yes, very young, honestly the youngest someone could be in this field (probably).
This thought came to mind awhile ago.
Everyone dies, yes, we all must, but, there's a rather large chance, that my fellow cooks will die before me.
These people, who've liked two, three, hell, even FOUR times my age, who've lived full lives, have had children, who have made countless of orders of oysters, brussel sprouts, will die.
There will be a day where all of these fabulous cooks who stand there, right across from the expo, behind them their prep stations, while they wield their knives, aren't there anymore. They're gone.
They won't be able to write the prep to-do list for me.
They won't be there to help me organize the fish/meat rack.
They won't be able to help me get things from the tops of the shelves.
They'll just be a part of a memory.
A part of my life, my story.
And maybe one day, just maybe, I'll be that to someone.
That's the craziest, and kinda most beautiful thing about life.
It's not the views, not the gigantic redwood trees in chile.
It's not the Tatra mountains in Poland.
It's none of it.
It's Death.
You have to Die.
Mar 13, 2025
Related Recs
An old man comes into my line , hunched over and dragging his feet,
As he puts items on the conveyor belt i see his knuckles white, and taunt with letters spelling “R-I-T-A”
RITA reveals his youth to me, she paints à vision of the couple behind him
I can see him standing with à woman, who’s young with à soft voice that creeps under the music my job is playing.
She buys à single bag of candy smiling as her child pulls on her arm.
Her partner, doesn’t seem to match the town we’re in and when he puts cash on the counter his knuckles read “R-I-C-O” instead,
RICO’s face mixes into someone from home and I wonder if he’ll live the same life as the man in front of him or meet the same fate as the latter.
Will he be able to retire in à sleepy town like Rita’s lover?
Or will he die young, far away from the smiling girl trying to prove himself?
His mother would wake up in à cold sweat to 30 missed calls. She’ll think of him at 6, nervous for his first day of school and collapse on the floor at his funeral. His childhood friends would rush over even though they haven’t seen him outside of Facebook in 16 years
But they’ll remember the important things, like him learning to ride his bike and getting à tattoo to match his dad for his approval even though it didn’t work. His dad would look at the casket and shed his first tears in à decade realizing that perhaps he was too hard like his father before him
After the quiet of the funeral, his friend would go back home to his empty apartment and have à longing for home and feel the need to visit home to see his mother to reminisce.
She would be the woman coming into my line now. Smile lines reveal to me the years of joy he’s brought her and in her bag, 6 oranges symbolizing good luck. She tells me the good news of her son visiting and tells me while talking that hes far older than me
I smile and ask her to guess my age “17” she says proudly. I feel disappointed that she didnt guess correctly. Everyone says that I’ll miss these years of mistaken Identity. But in my youth I wish to skip it. At age 20 , I wish I had à life of tattoos and lines that express à life full of laughs
I’m aware that with this change that no one will see me as the girl that I am anymore but this refined thing. No one would see me as carefree and fun loving as à mother but irresponsible and immature. At the young age of 40 no one will see me as curious but nosy and stupid
By then I won't be insecure but desperate, by then I should be wise.
I wonder if the woman in front of me remembers her first boyfriend vividly or her mother cutting her deeply for the first time or does she just feel the grooves that have been carried in her
At 60 will she remember being at the edge of the windowsill at 14 and view it as an error of her youth? And when she saw the same signs of decline in her own daughter will she ignore it like her mother had done her and instead clasp her daughters hands in prayer and force her to her knees. Or would she view her daughter pulling away as necessary instead of à sign of abandonment and remember that in her youth she was her daughter and vice versa
Feb 13, 2025
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I think people die exactly when they need to. This morning I was thinking about the people in my life who have died, regardless of the cause, and as much as really miss some of them, I just can’t help but think of how miserable they would feel if they were alive right now. Sometimes I like to think that these people were meant to be here just to be amazing for a little while and then fate gives them a way out because it knows what‘s coming next. Some people are just too perfect to deserve to stay here long enough to be sullied by the world.
Nov 10, 2024
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For a good chunk of my 30 years on this Earth I’ve been helping to take care of older, sick relatives. First, my maternal grandfather who was bedridden for 4 years after a fall followed by a stroke. Then, my maternal grandmother slowly slipped into dementia until she passed on an August night a little over 2 years ago. Both lived full lives and passed peacefully. But the process of seeing them falter after knowing them as strong individuals is soul crushing.
I’m now taking care of my partner’s grandmother. While I’m not alone, this third time around of being a caretaker of a family member not directly my own confirms what I already knew: death is easier to confront than the process of dying. It’s ugly, reeks, and it is extremely hard to grapple with if you aren’t at peace with your own life.
Nevermind whatever happens at the funeral. Family members show their true colors in moments like this.
Apr 5, 2025
Top Recs from @Falling-Leaf
In the course of 365, I . . .
- Started dating my current girlfriend
- Became a manager in training at a fast food restaurant
- Lost my great grandfather
- Started smoking cigarettes again
- Became 18
- Left previously mentioned fast food restaurant
- Moved out from home to live with my girlfriend
- Tried to stop smoking, emphasis on tried
- Realized I was going to become a dropout
- Worked at a family owned barbecue place
- Had multiple breakdowns over how I felt stuck, believing my life is over
- Started working at a food truck as a line cook, rekindling my love for cooking
- Left that food truck to work for a new restaurant
- Helped BUILD AND MOVE IN FURNITURE FOR MONTHS
- Waited, and waited, and waited for work
- Started cooking again
- Restaurant FINALLY(!) opened, so started work
- Panic over my age and lack of experience
- Realize everyone has to start somewhere, they weren't just born at 30 and were immediately a great cook
- Got something on the menu and people like it
- Got my first GOOD GOOD check, making me realize it's my last year being broke
Of course this isn't everything, but to me it's everything worthwhile/worth mentioning.
This was a picture from a couple days ago, my love goes to school for psychology and I walk around the campus playing Pokemon Go/reading/listening to music.
A tree. A billion little things, doing one gigantic thing. Living.
Mar 13, 2025
As It says above, I am a first year cook .
I do not have a whole lot to say (yet)
But, I will say it's very fun, challenging, and silly at times .
Here's one of the meals I've made !
Red Snapper Fillet, basted in a butter sauce, with shallots, roasted poblano, and topped with herbs
Mar 12, 2025
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I live about six minutes away from my work, so I rise at 8:40, enough time to cuddle and love my Lily.
I get there around 8:58. Across the street, parked in front of Miron's Steak House, a long, big, white, semi. Truck day.
3 boxes of brussel, 5 of assorted mushrooms, 1 container of micro cilantro, 1 container of blood leaves, 1 box of lime, 1 box of lemons, and 1 box of oranges.
I'm a prep cook, so I started my tasks for the day.
I prepped a lot of fucking potatos. And I mean, A LOT.
Cut them hotdog style, into 4 wedges, coat them in salt and pepper.
Made mustard, I hate mustard. Such an interesting thought. How do
I know if this is good? I don't like
it at all, so how do I even KNOW it's good?
Anyways . .
pre cooked some steaks, got very smokey.
Cut my hand, ouch.
Today we opened at 4:00, so I got to work some service.
Lot of charcuterie boards, my favorite things to make.
We had to make twenty on the fly, we made so many before open . .
Sink pipe busted, stewards had to fix it on the fly.
After work I tried applying to McAdoo's again. Fancy fish restaurant.
I love fish.
I'll work with it more someday.
That was all the things worth mentioning.
I'll be better at telling all of you things like this, give me time.
I'm working on a book, it's better than this I swear.
Mar 14, 2025