i once again neglected to add an hour to the alarm so i was wide awake at 4.45 for a don't-show-up-any-earlier-than-6.15 shift--my only cooking shift.

i dwindled a bit at home. had a glass of water. smoked a fag at the desk whilst perusing DagensNyheter [swedish social-democrat morning newspaper] despite the I'm-not-smoking-in-flat-since-it's-not-so-bitterly-cold-outside-anymore self-imposed ban. [[the nice bit is: it never smells of smoke once i arrive home and flatmate hadn't noticed until i bloody told her.]] i reheated the cup of coffee i had post-work and neglected to drink due to 6hour nap. i poured it back into its papercup and went my merry way to work.

being the one chef that consistently arrives early, my production list and stack of recipes were already done up and awaiting my virtuous uberpunctuality. i took a quick look as i slipped on my apron and chef's jacket, gasped, and shouted from the top of my lungs: WHAT... THE... FUCK!?!?

unreasonable amount of items on list. and being OCD... if you write it down, i HAVE to do it. i never fare well in the battle of pojken vs. compulsion.

i work to the bone. i finish all but that goddamn Thai Cucumber Salad, which has been on my production list for the last 18 chef shifts. it takes me exactly 22 minutes to complete. the hot table cook mercifully snatched it out of my recipe pile and make it for me.

i didn't help in the cleaning between shift-change. i hadn't the time. i punched out 2 minutes later than scheduled.

i went home.
i showered.
i went on second?third? date with the curiously adorable jewman [CAJ]. he kept me longer than anticipated and i missed my ride to the standing tuesday-karaoke-at-the-unleather-side-of-the-gay-leather-bar event. i waited for the bus, because CAJ wouldn't give me a ride. bus didn't show. i waited an hour for the next one.

i finally get to the pub. ordered usually drink. prices had risen. strangely busy at the bar as well. put in three slips... only get to sing once. [[unheard of!]] and the turn was wasted on my amazing rendition of counting crows' "Angels of the Silences."

get home at 2, completely twatted. ...which was much needed. stripped down to skivvies, turned on tele, hopped under the covers and passed out to re-runs of "Full House."

i was awoken at 4.18 AM...

which i'll tell y'all all about as soon as i figure out how to relay it comically. that'll be part two... which can't be written until at least sunday since i work and then leave immediately for my friend/co-worker's mother's benefit spaghetti dinner at a church in the middle of Nowheresville, Wisconsin.

and fighting acute lymphoma with a cakewalk [[think musical chairs with whole cakes as prizes!]], raffle and all-one-can-eat spaghetti dinner is much more important than immediately telling of the Prince-lookalike rubbing his face and purring against the kitchen windowscreen after spiderman-ing his way up to it.