What a Week!

It has been a wild week of emotional and physical rolling coastering (but, sadly, not literal).

It was mother's day Sunday. And Graduation for ISU on Friday. Between the two, the restaurant was packed. on Saturday we sat 260 tables. many of 6 person parties. An adventurous evening in the kitchen. I was in at 10am (Geangelo's opens at 4pm) for prep work. 11 on Friday by the time i got home. I s'pose the pay will be worth it. though, unlike Monica's, I get no compensation for how well we do each night. (not exactly an instinctive to work hard). I don't put myself out like i did at Monica's - I just don't enjoy the environment, the food, or pretty much anything about the place. I need the money. So for now I'm trapped. At least the cooking part is delightful. I'm learning alot and I've disposable income such that i don't hafta leach off my parents. It's curious, being employed, that is. I've begun carrying cash. I love Cash. I love having cash because i hate Credit. I hate using credit and debit cards. I hate the insanity of economics. As a side note, I think -nein- believe that automated stock trading is abusive to our apparently delicate economy. It's all too much, this economic idea of instant, invisible trade. I'm beginning to hate it all. Hang on a moment, 'cause I'm working towards something here.

  A woman in need of help came across my path. By desperate sharpie on gritty green poster board i knew she asked for help. I gave her a fiver. for yesterday nights grew cold. a midsummer frost. Her hands were cold - thawing chicken. She said any money could buy her a meal -food she said. That day. Tomorrow? Would i have a Fiver tomorrow? Will she?
  Money can't help. Only delay the inevitable. She needs a home, steady income, confidence, some place to warm frozen chicken flesh.
  Later, as i stared into a pizza. Cheese melted just right. laden with cut green peppers, spicy ham, tantalizing mushrooms and thick savory sauce. Steam, flavorful steam drifted from it - mouth watering. My stomach gnarled -growling- in my belly. I thought of her cold hands reaching - clutching- my fiver.
  $10.20 for a pie, .99¢ for a drink. A buck fifty in gas to avoid sleeting rain (same price as bus fare). Twenties and fifties lined my wallet with today's pay.