my new job. i am cooking at a nursing home. again.

well, it's a step up for two reasons, because it's not really a nursing home. it's an assisted living facility, so the residents are in better health, and i don't have to puree hot dogs at this place. also, there are only 60 people to serve instead of 200, so it's a lot less grueling in physical and mental terms. i only ever have three or four pots/pans to scrub and put away. and! they really cook. biscuits from scratch and all of that. i mean, sure there are convenience products, but less of them. and more real food.

it's a step down because i probably fit in even less than i did at the last place. for example, i have no children. even the 22-year-old dishwasher has two kids. another example is that i have all my teeth. and i don't use words like "clearification" or "flustrated."

time and again, living here at home, i am confronted with my ingrained class prejudices. i don't want to be that judgmental. i don't want to look down on people because they made bad choices or because their parents and grandparents made bad choices or just because their mom was a drunk who never took them to the dentist. it's not their fault, and i understand that.

and just as much as i am certain they wouldn't want me to think badly of them, i don't want them to think badly of me. i haven't yet told anyone what kind of an education i have, or that i'm going to grad school, or used to live in england. someone asked about my french cigarettes and i found myself having to explain the concept of "duty-free." i got some weird looks when i explained that those cigarettes meant i had been on an international flight. thank god no one asked me how recently or why i had been there.

anyway. it's not as much money as i need, but it's more than i'm making sitting on my ass at home. as much as i prefer the ass-sitting. :)

oh. what i was really going to talk about before i got on my high horse was the hygeine issue. there's a lady there with some serious finger-licking-while-working. and it has to stop. so i did the chickenshit thing and approached the boss about it. because i can't deal with that, or her coughing into her hand then touching some bread, or leaving meat on a counter with no foil or pan or anything under or over it. ew. so i'm going to be making some changes when i'm on my own next weekend. yeah. feel the heat of my furious cleanliness!