The First Week.

"Food is essential to life, therefore, make it good."

-- S. Truett Cathy

If I had to describe the first week of Culinary Arts School, it would have to be Anticlimactic.

I'll give a brief description of the structure of things before I dive into the actual drudgery.

There are shifts of students who arrive in the morning. A-shift arrives at 7:30, and leaves at 10:05. B-shift comes precisely [except for not really. There are rumors that the bus driver stops for coffee and doughnuts] at 8:20, and leaves by 11:05. Lydia {a friend of mine who is taking the class as well. We carpool.] and I are in B-shift.

SO, all that to say, Lydia and I came in at about 8:10, and found a place to sit. There were several teacher-looking individuals who were bumbling around the classroom, shuffling and handing out paperwork.

My respective teachers are:

Chef Tony: Head Chef, portly, firm, but kind, has a genuine interest for the welfare of his students, does very well at his job.

Chef David: Head Chef, tall, slim, mysterious, to be honest, I'm not quite sure what I think of him yet.

Chef Mary: Instructor, short [lengthwise], hardworking, pretty much awesome, makes an effort to relate to students. I really like her.

Chef Nate: Instructor, young, handsome, regular subject of conversation among the girl students, fairly witty, and nice enough, I suppose.

Ms. D: For all intensive purposes, the secretary. She handles all of our paperwork. Usually rather frazzled and scattered.

So, I received my forms and filled them out. The basic info; Name, Birthday, Address, Parent's names, Deepest fear, Most embarrassing moment... the usual. :]

After everyone finished, we continued to sit -without teachers, this time- and wait for some sort of direction. This, I'm afraid, never came. The bell rang, and I left, disillusioned.

The rest of the week was pretty much the same. I came in hopeful every morning, only to be let down.

Maybe the next couple weeks will be better.