Dear Master Plan,
Just wanted to let you know that everything is falling into place. I just put an exclamation point on everything by tearing off the Band-Aid that I’d been hanging onto for the past few months. Here’s my checklist:
Got dumped by my girlfriend – check. Made life-changing decisions I don’t know will work out – check. Going to Barcelona to work in a kitchen and can barely speak the language – check and check. What could go wrong? Turns out what I thought would be the most difficult part of my plan, ended up being the easiest and most fulfilling. Taking a deep breath, ripping that used bandage off, and quitting the most demanding and difficult job I’d ever had.
When I first started working in this kitchen, I was with my girlfriend and I had a five year plan for myself and us as a couple. I would work here for two or three years, getting better everyday and learning as much as possible. In the mean time, I would propose and we would be engaged for a year or so and then I would quit right before the wedding so we could go on a nice long honeymoon. Then we’d get back and I’d apply for a sous-chef job somewhere and work another 2-3 years at that place and look for an Exec Chef job after that. I had a plan, but that plan went to shit when my girlfriend threw the big N-word in my face. I’m talking about the word ‘No’ not the other N-word. Geez.
I was like the Fresh Prince of Bel Air, ‘my life got switched turned upside down,’ except I didn’t have an Uncle Phil or Aunt Viv to spend my time with. In the kitchen is where I spent most of my days, with two perfectionist-chefs verbally and emotionally kicking my ass everyday. Needless to say, my five-year plan was thrown out the window and run over by an 18-wheeler, towing a tractor-trailer, hauling a tank. Instead of making another plan, I just decided to do what was going to make me happy in the here and now, with the hopes of making myself a better cook and better person in the long term.
There are so many cities around the globe I could’ve gone to, but I’d been to Barcelona before and have a friend that lives there, so to me it was a no brainer. I drafted a cover letter, immediately translated it into Spanish (because my Spanish is shit), and sent it to the 20 or so Michelin starred restaurants in the city. If I was going to travel thousands of miles away, I was gonna go big or go home. My Master Plan was in full motion. All I had to do now was sit back and wait for a response from just one restaurant. I didn’t need a bidding war. I didn’t need a stipend. I just needed one to say ‘Yes.’
I’ll write you soon with what else went down. Keep your head up, player.