yes, i cater. it's one of my 5 jobs. well, at least it was. i'd always hated it more than my coworkers, or maybe they were better at hiding their disdain than i was.
tonight, while serving rich bitches at a party on park ave, i thought to myself, "i can only take one more rich bitch shooing me away because she doesn't want an eggplant roulade with mozzarella and roasted peppers."
and when i told my captain i was "sick" (...what? i was...), he told me he needed me because he was short staffed. never asked if i was okay, never offered anything, not even health insurance. i decided then that i was done. i was so sick of it all that i went to the bathroom and cried my eyes out sitting on a porcelain bidet.
i had an epiphany on that smooth operator: all this time, i've been serving the wrong people.
so! out with catering, in with habitat for humanity, nordoff robins and milliontreesnyc.
wtf have i been thinking? i was chasing money like all those rich bitches instead of listening to my heart. i must admit, i had 2nd thoughts when i opened the tip envelope the Head rich bitch gave me for 3 hours of work. but i'll take it as a hefty parting gift.
tsk, tsk, nedra. only the weak chase money. they have no heart to chase anything else.
"Focusing your life solely on making a buck shows a certain poverty of ambition. It asks too little of yourself. Because it's only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you realize your true potential." - Barack Obama