Friday, August 04, 2006

A Fungus Among Us

On my arm, anyway; either that, or some kind of dermatitis. Last time I got something like this (nearly ten years ago) I cleared it up with nightly applications of olive oil plus tea tree oil. Given the amount of crap I have my hands in daily, it's not that surprising. Also, I can tell that the past six months or so have worn on me, in subtle ways; I'm out of balance. My fibroids are growing/have grown again (apparently my uterus is the size it would be if I were 14 weeks pregnant), I rarely sleep through the night (though I often, though not always, go back to sleep quickly when I wake up), lots of little things. I've been doing some work on the side, too, and I'll have to spend the weekend holed up in front of the computer, but I'm grateful for the work; I don't make enough at the bakery to make ends meet.

Speaking of the bakery, we have a guest again, some guy from Miami who wanted to work with Jefe for a month. He was with us for about a week, then had a family emergency, and he's back this week. The first day, he was standing across the table from me, next to Brad, when I said something to Brad about what's been going on in my life this past year, basically listing everything; kind of a lot of information in front of a complete stranger, but I was talking to Brad. Nevertheless, Ken piped up by saying, "I'm from Miami." It was the most bizarre non sequitur I'd heard in awhile, so I thought maybe I'd imagined it. Later, Brad ran into me downstairs as I put croissants onto sheet pans, and he said, "Did he say 'I'm from Miami'?" And we both just cracked up. Every once in awhile, one of us will say to the other, as an aside, "I'm from Miami."

Today, though, I thought I'd smack Ken upside the head. He NEVER STOPS TALKING. The bakery is loud enough, what with mixers, dough sheeters, timers, the proof box, the pan washer, etc., so to have someone chattering, non-stop, on top of it, well, it was a test of my patience, such as it is. I'm serious--he never shuts up. Everyone has commented on it, too, so I know it's not just me. It was especially annoying today, because I was just feeling sad. I suspected there might be hormonal involvement as well (and I think I'm right about that), but my experience is that hormonal swings tend to amplify what's already there rather than create something that's not.

Plus, Friday is a pain: Phil gets his stuff out of the downstairs freezer mid-morning (i.e., by 8:30 or so), which permits me to put in all of the croissants except the plain ones (approximately 23 dozen chocolate, 12 dozen cinnamon raisin, 4 dozen ham and cheese [we don't sell those at the market, so it's just for the store and wholesale orders], and 13 dozen almond) into cabinets and shove the cabinets into the freezer. Later, after the Festival of Plain Croissants, I have to find room for 42 dozen plain croissants and another 18 cinnamon raisin that have been turned into "morning buns" (which means we put them in big muffin tins, upside down, on top of a splotch of honey plus glucose, a generous handful of brown sugar, and, for some of them, pecans, and after they're baked they're turned upside right and they're all brown and lovely and gooey)--this requires two and a half additional racks, except by now the walk-in refrigerator upstairs is stuffed to the gills. There's no room to move, and everyone is annoyed every time he or she walks into the walk-in to find something. Eh; whatever. My systematic approaches to these things have made it as pain-free as it can get, and you just gotta get through the rest of it.

I realized lately that I have made no comments whatsoever on the various political situations abounding, which depresses me (that I'm not writing about important shit, but instead am meandering on about meaningless crap). Partly, I think, I don't have the energy to head to the rant zone, and these issues would send me there rather quickly. Second, there are plenty of other people doing a fine job--a much finer job than I would do. Not that this should make me feel any better, but I can't even bring myself to read the newspaper these days.

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