My stage has started. Today was my 4th day at the "house of fancy pastries" (as we will call it,) in Verviers, and like every day I've been there, I still feel like a goomba in a place filled with ninjas. The first days in any kitchen are always the most difficult, as you are learning how things are expected to be done, where things are kept, and how the machinery works. Today I learned (I hope) to watch my step more carefully.
I can't bend my left knee. A large black bruise is developing, and though I've taken a horsepill anti-inflammatory, it seems to have no effect. Today, you see, I managed to crash to the ground while escorting a tray of creamy, crispy deliciousness designed to be hidden as a layer in a mousse-cake from the freezer to a work surface. While carrying the tray I didn't swerve to avoid a low stack of boxes and metal in my path (which I didn't see since I was carrying the tray.) This resulted in my falling forward, trying desperately to keep the wobbling tray upright as I fell, and then *wham* The tray and I hit the ground. Nothing makes you feel more competent than almost killing a tray of someone else's work by doing a belly flop in the kitchen. Yes yes.
I'm just hoping by the end of my stage I feel slightly less like an elephant who has stumbled into the midst of a troupe of ballet dancers.
Oh, later in the day the vibration from the dishwasher sent the tray-loader (a metal insert we use to place baking pans and grills in the dishwasher,) toppling onto me from above as I dried and put back pitchers, bowls and other things. It was totally my day.