At Least I'm Not A Lobster

I'm sitting here in a cushy chair at a locally-owned coffee house, a light snow falling, my high altitude-induced headache eased slightly by a 20 oz, triple-shot Cowgirl Cappuccino (actual menu name), using the establishment's free WiFi to check on the weather before setting off for day one of my job interview, and I get an email from the lovely and talented Dr. Virago about a post I should read on another blog about an academic's worst job experiences.

And now, I say, you must read it, especially if you have ever worked, or thought of working, in a library, on a farm or in a kitchen. Hilarious, sad, frighteningly true. And now, no matter what happens in the kitchen today during my stage (rhymes with the "Taj" in Taj Mahal), I can take comfort in the fact that at least I won't be dressed like a lobster.

And for those of you whose curiosity has been peaked by my reference to a high-altitude headache, yes, my potential place of employment is at about 8,000 feet above sea level, which is not only enough to give this flatlander a headache, it's enough to cause headaches in the kitchen, because sugar reaches its various stages (soft ball, hard crack, etc) at different temperatures, cakes don't rise and souffles deflate due to the thinness of the air. Of course, I am all geeked-out and excited about the prospect of learning high-altitude baking and pastry, frustrating though I'm sure it would be. Stay tuned.