In the weeds

So last night I had a dream. I often have dreams where the past merges with the future and makes a reality that only exists in my mind.

I haven't worked in a restaurant in over two years now but it is like my mind is wired to think that I still spend most of my time in the kitchen. I ALWAYS have dreams that I am in the middle of the dinner rush of the century, cooking on the line.

The dream last night was a mixture of two restaurants that I spent some time in; the dish I was preparing was pomegranate roasted duck breast, but the kitchen I was cooking it in was not the one that, in reality, served it.

The dream was so real I could almost feel the heat of the gas burners as I rushed in to to save a co-worker that had fallen behind, or was "in the weeds" as we call it. There were dirty pans scattered all over the place, and food was everywhere: my nightmare. Thank god I woke up shortly after this realization.

I almost feel like these dreams are my subconscious's way of trying to tell me where I belong. Am I insane to miss the long hours, the rush of cooking twelve things at once and the feeling of relief at midnight when the night is over?

Maybe some people are just meant for that kind of life. Some of us thrive off of high-intensity situations and keep coming back for more.

But just as I start thinking like this I remember that it is Friday night and I don't have to work, and the reasons I left restaurants start flooding back.