Or the resignation I wanted to write
It is with the heaviest of hearts, I have to inform you. As of August 14th I will no longer be a chef. After 10 long years of wonderful highs and terrifying lows I am finally bringing my knife kit home for good.
My last happy birthday plate will be written. My last service will be done. The last kitchen play list will be listened to. The last coffee drank ( decaff for me mind, anxiety is just that bad at the moment.)
Sadly my mind is no longer up to the mark. My body still hasn’t recovered from the Covid. For the sake of my health I can no longer put in the hours. These days I can barely stay awake past 11 let alone work until gone midnight. I have a new job – 10am-7pm, Monday to Friday.
The regular routine I rejected for years I suddenly find myself needing. Have I made the right decision? Yes I know deep down I have.
Is it making me happy? No. Not yet. In fact as I write this I am pretty thoroughly miserable. Leaving behind the last 10 incredible years has been one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make.
To everyone who has worked with me. Laughed with me. Hugged me. Danced with me. Been in the shit with me. Taught me. Helped me. Learned from me. Panee’d with me. Spud bashed with me. To all my regular guests.
To all my teammates past and present. I love you all dearly. To the kitchen. It’s been a blast. I’ll miss you old friend.
Thank you for the good times!
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