I’ve landed a summer job working part time for a restaurant and brewery, just across the street from the mall. I made like 100 lbs of guacamole on my first day.

It’s been a little over a week.

My whole entire body aches from standing all day in the wrong shoes. My acne is flaring up. My throat is sore from breathing the air in the place where I am currently working – a mix of water vapor, fryer oil, cigarette smoke, onions and jalapeño peppers.

On my first day, somebody asked me if I smoked cigarettes. I said “no,” without thinking, and I should have said “yes” because people who smoke have an excuse to step out of the chaos and the noise for like two minutes and into the relative calm of the pavement just outside of the back door.

I’ve been quietly thrumming with anxt for the entirety of every shift this week, because what if I’m not doing a good job and what if somebody is going to pull me aside at any moment and tell me that I am not useful and I don’t deserve to be here

Sometimes I escape into the walk in cooler for a minute, just to breathe. I have done this in every kitchen I’ve ever worked in. This is easy, because all kitchens are secretly exactly the same.

In every kitchen I have ever worked in, there has always been at least one person that I could go to if I needed to ask questions.

This is the person who knows exactly what they’re doing and where everything belongs, but also doesn’t get paid enough to worry too much about whether or not everything is running smoothly. There’s a kind of balance there that leaves room for patience when talking to new people, especially the ones who are trying to do a good job.

They are generally grumpy old ladies with crooked teeth, sad eyes, a solid sense of humor, and their own copy of the recipe book which nobody else is allowed to touch.

There is one of those, here. She’s probably old enough to be my grandmother. She has a red tattoo of a dragon with butterfly wings on her ankle, which she told me she got in Australia.

When I talk to this kind of person, I don’t feel like a burden, and so I can actually think. It calms me down, a little. Enough.

I am focusing on keeping up with the whirlwind pace of what is going on around me, and learning how to do as many of the various tasks as possible.

Ask questions. Take nothing personally. Notice small details. Follow instructions. Work together. Pay attention to your surroundings. Clean up as you go along.

I am pushing so hard.

I’m going to try to rest now, because I am so tired. I hope it’s a good night.