It has been a revelation to me. But not necessarily in the cooking. I don't think that the chef instructor likes me much. I have never had a teacher/boss who didn't like me. Hell, teachers down-right LOVE me for crying out loud. (Well, except for my second grade teacher Mrs. Bachelor for whom I think it was less that she hated me and more that she hated her job and all children in general. In fact, I often imagined that she and Mrs. Trunchbull from Matilda would get along fabulously. Or maybe Ronald Dahl was one of her former students and based the character on her.) I am a great student. I like to learn, I pay attention and I am enthusiastic in class. I am a freaking teacher's wet dream.
Admittedly my week has not started off well. The second day of class I had to skip school due to Audrey's vomitting issue, and the next day I was late. (BTW, thank you to the 2 Jackasses who killed their cars on the Bay Bridge causing my delay and making me contemplate what it would be like to wet my pants as an adult!) But I have tried to redeem myself, cleaning tirelessly and adding copious amounts of salt to my food. To no avail. I continue to get B's on the plates I turn in.
I realize that basically I am being a whiny brat about not being liked by the teacher, but the teacher pet in me is dying to be recognized. And I hate it when the teacher leaves you hanging in the wind with your hand in the air to call on some idiot who isn't paying attention and is only half awake anyway.
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