Day 1

I have homework. Actual homework. All the UK English is throwing me (like the word "hob" for "oven") which means that as I am working out that simple translation, the instructor is making a point that I am missing.  The English measurements are virtually meaningless to me as of yet.  And just to be silly, I somehow missed the memo that today was an overview/information day and that we wear our uniforms tomorrow.  Picture me, in my chef whites, sitting with 15 other students who don't look over eager and are wearing normal clothes. Mercy. Feel free to laugh out loud about this, but don't feel free to mention it to me. What a day. And it isn't like signing up for a cookery class, where everything you do is art. I will be critiqued, and I can fail and not get the certificate at the end.  Throw in  Ryan in DC, dinner guests, and a FHE (which were both great, but I sure I was a frazzled hostess) and you have my day.  I seriously hope that this is just the initial shock of jumping into the cold pool, but that I still have a wonderful time swimming.  Please eat a chocolate on my behalf, and add me to your prayers, just because you love me, and I showed up to class being the only one in uniform. Oh wha ta goo sei am. Oh what a goose I am.