Sunday, 14 February 2016

Two more bad dreams - this would make #7 and #8 since I started looking for a job in January. They're anxiety dreams, though mostly they are about the General being disappointed in me. In the first dream one of my teeth fell out and he wanted me to push it back in, but because I was afraid it was going to hurt, I postponed it and as consequence, all of the others on one side followed. I started crying and he was upset with me for not listening. I am so unwilling to have anything to do with my teeth that i haven't seen a dentist in11 years and almost all of my teeth have cavities by now, but the last time I did see one, it was so awful it traumatized me. I am literally rather willing to lose a tooth than see a dentist. The second dream was about ascending a hill, I think we were either hiking or gathering wood or something and I kept taking photos of small things along the path I fancied, until i was way behind. It got dark and the snakes came out and he was yelling at me from way ahead why do I always have to do things my way. I woke up both times, jerking. They're just dumb anxiety dreams. Most of the times when going to these job interviews it feels like I am climbing a shaming podium for strangers to question and doubt me. Tiny rapes indeed, as Tinka said it. 

Wrote this yesterday morning on the train:

Night train down the riverline. More accurately, the first morning train. I am pretty much the only civilian on it; everyone else is railroad employees calling the end of the shift and riding home, tired. It's Saturday. Third job interview, this one for a cake maker. I haven't had anything for breakfast, my tummy aches a little, though this time the only thing I am nervous about is the money. I don't want to be offered minimum wage again, like I am an undereducated just-out of high school or a housewife desperate for slave labor. It shows what sort of people you are getting employed by right at the door, and I don't want that, again. They are asking for a lot of talent and expertise. I am hoping they will match it with decent pay. 
An hour's train ride. Perfect time to read or write or watch an episode of X files. No idea how long this is going to take, though I imagine it's going to be a beautiful day. New snow is falling, second time this season, it's very gentle and pretty. I am going to a neat by-the-river village. Whatever the outcome of this little trip, G is taking me to see Deadpool in the eve, so, all is well that ends well :))
As soon as I arrived to the pastry cafe, they sent me down to the production basement, where two employees were already in full swing - they begin their work at 4 or 5:30. Earliest train there is 6:30. I have no other means of getting there except the car, but I don't like to drive when I am very tired, after a grueling shift. One of the women instantly asked me to change into my work clothes or whatever it was that I had with me (I improvised, because I long outgrew my baker's uniform broad-wise) and the other sort of questioned me on my abilities, suspiciously. They did not seem to like the fact I was there. I was supposed to make a fresh cake and they had a little ingredients, but most I asked to get from the store. This is the reality of fresh cakes: you work with what you've got. I know the basics by heart, because I photographed Tinka making them a zillion times and it comes down to three catches: cashew nuts galore (or tiger nuts, but I had to make do with almonds), how strong is your blender and making it very cold overnight.
          I ground almonds, dates and cashews for the 'dough' and meshed strawberries over it, then shock-froze it, then poured a paste of cashews, avocado, dates with some spices over it and decorated it with roughly cut almonds and strawberry slices. I had pistachios and some other stuff to use, but I mostly forgot about it. When the woman in charge came to eat a piece, I think she was satisfied, though, and surprised the whole thing was so puffy, light, tall and edible. 
           While I waited for things to cool or blend, they gave me Valentine’s mini cakes to decorate. I could see they were throwing things at me to test me, but anything they threw, I handled. One can instantly see if you've done writing with chocolate before, by the way you make a piece of baking paper into a cone. And I can do that, so they just left me and I did great. They kept asking me where I worked before and what I did there and the more I told them I never worked anywhere before and I am only schooled and passionate, they kept being surprised I can actually do anything they say. They'd say: make a yoghurt-cream strawberry cake. I'd reply: alright, how do you make it? They'd say: how do you make it? I'd say: I've never made it before, but if you tell me, I can do anything you want. 
          We went through this several times. The fact it, absolutely everybody makes every cake differently. And most all cakes are exactly the same: dough, filling, garnish. After they told me: take two yoghurts, one whipped cream and gelatin, which you mix with cold water and microwave into goo, then mix everything, pouring it into a 'cage' of strawberry slices, that's what I did. We all worked until the end of the shift at 1pm, and I think between us we made about 20 cakes. Sometimes my hands would shake and I would mutter and couldn't articulate, but when I was told to decorate a large white cake of whipped cream with a guitar and notes, okay, I just drew everything on baking paper, froze it and then applied it. Seriously. If you tell me what you want done, I can do anything. If they asked me to make another cake of an original recipe, that wouldn't be a problem either. If anything, I have done a LOT of cakes in my life. Especially 'traditional' ones, where you can't do wrong with whipped cream, chocolate or walnuts.
           I also know to always keep my station clean and immediately wash the things I use. It saves you a lot of time. 
            For snack, the ladies shared with me some lettuce and a cooked potato and coffee. I noticed they do not eat a lot of leftovers, and since i can still smell the extracts on my hands, I can understand you get sick of it after a week, no matter how yummy that stuff is. I was so tired - I am out of shape and didn't have proper shoes - that I could barely walk. I got myself a kebab and murdered it in mid air, starved, but mostly really thirsty. The ride back home was a happy pain. G came to get me on the station to carry my basket. We were happy, but I was really beat. They say sitting is the new smoking and yes, I have been sitting down way too much. I need to get my legs in better standing practice.