I worked in the morning. It was a usual Friday, I made the strawberry cake and the fruit bowls instead of the morning colleague who was off. It didn’t go well, (but not that badly); that’s why I’ll never be a professional chef, because performance is not a constant. I have better days and worse days, as people usually do. Like I’m some kind of artist. Add to that the fact that our pastry chef’s love – Tiffany – rarely works in the morning, so Brice was throwing a tantrum about everything, but that’s not my problem… I got the evening off. I’m already in Arles, having Thai food for dinner, now I’m writing a diary during the opening match of the European Football Championship. Maybe I’ll dance tonight – if the music is right.
