It has probably been the longest, physically most challenging and taxing week of my life. Working in a kitchen is in no way glamorous or a bed of roses. I spend half of my day wearing these fashionable chef shoes, an awful white hairnet, and a variety of food smells and stains; lovely, no? Putain (fuck) and merde (shit) are probably the two most used words, and I have been criticized as a cochon (pig, which always means dirty and messy in French) and slow many, many times. The chefs are crazy/uptight/angry/unreasonable/scary/insane and I hope I never become like them. My hours are long, our lunch break is 10 minutes, and I work on the weekends…but I’m still looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.