i've, um...

uhhh...

stumbled into a parttime job at one of my favourite restaurants. weekend baker at the Birchwood.

and all i had come into said-establishment for was the tuna melt which birchwood counterworker du jour Dan informed me was to be on the menu but that i should ask for gruyere in place of the smoked provolone. [which i did. and oh my good god of tuna melts... !!! thank god i've decided to eat fish, p.s.]

anyway, as dannyboy is running my chequecard, he asked if i was serious about parttime baking at the birchwood.

i suppose my yes came out as a "YES" instead of the "Let's talk later" it was meant to be.

I'm drinking beer and awaiting a brilliant tuna melt (on that DIVINE foccasia, aka "fauxcacia" and "fo'casha") and talking to the owner.

i'm pretty much hired on the spot.

i begin may 1st.

i'm terrified the wedge will find out and think i'm defecting, which couldn't be further from the truth.

thank god i love baking. working 7 days a week would otherwise be most unpleasant. this way it kills time, which in turn saves money, which in turn promotes better living, which in turn keeps me focussed on me-not-getting-tangled-up-in-unpleasant-boy/guy/man-matters.

and i'm only saying that cos i had drinks with scott at the chatterbox on monday night [and at some point in the evening had to tell Coco (her actual name), karaoke-whore extraordinaire that scott and i were not on our second date, and no... we're not dating...and yes... i know we should be... BECAUSE IT'S COMPLICATED, COCO. [[she also ordered a drink and demanded it be put on scott's tab, which isn't nearly as cool as it sounds]].]

& just hours ago finished talking to le peacock who knows me far too well. [in that sick, eery way of knowing a person. it frightens me, goddamnit. i'm elusive! i'm aloof! i'm esoteric! --to a g'damned faulted-tee!] and i'm standing witness to crime of violent intent of the truth [truth hurts... and no shit sherlock, it down right stings. i may be suffering anaphylaxis latter on.]

anyway, this is why working 55+ hours a week will be a good thing. and at two of my favourite food establishments in the country! hoorah.