Perfectly Disorganized

Well my days of perfect homemaking are already over. A week ago, I would have gladly invited anyone over for any reason because of how pristine and tidy our cozy apartment was. Today, I would gladly invite myself over to someone else's home. Growing up I lived with parents that are both organized and incredibly clean. My father recently retired from the Navy after thirty-six years of service. With that being said, he taught me to always make my bed and put away dirty dishes right away.

Even though my parents taught me these wonderful values and habits, I was still the least organized of my family. I am a creative minded person, or that is my excuse. Once I got married, it was my goal to keep the house spotlessly clean and organized because I am lacking in that area. Well, I succeeded for a month, and now our bedroom is covered in my clothes that I have decided will make a nest there.

However, it makes our apartment feel like a home. A little disorganization and mess means I am using my time to not just obsessively clean, but to spend time with God, my husband, parents, and girlfriends. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have both.. but like I said, I am a creative minded person. The main thing that has taken my focus away from cleaning is starting a new job.

Last Thursday I began a new adventure of starting my training as a server of a restaurant. The restaurant is a take on Italian style cuisine with a modern twist. Since I am clearly not Italian in any shape or form, this was all new to me. Learning classic Italian style dishes done in a style that the chef designed, learning new cocktails with many Amaros (Italian herbal liqueurs), and many wines from various Italian regions. All this learning has made me want to travel across the pond to see and taste the real thing.

After three days of learning, I feel exhausted. I have been out of work for two months because of wedding planning and attempting to be a good wife. Yet, I could not just stay unemployed for too long. I enjoy working for a company, especially the one I am employed for. Two years ago, I started working for the company at a different restaurant in the hometown I grew up in. I never knew how that job would change my life. At this point in my life, I knew nothing of food. What good food was. What good quality food was. I knew what I liked, and at the time I was a major health freak so fresh vegetables, egg whites, and fruit was the majority of what I consumed. I got a job at a fine dining, white table cloth restaurant with foods I had never heard of before. What was Kohlrabi? What the heck was Celeriac? Foie Gras is what now?! My eyes had been opened to a beautiful art form I had never known. To work under an incredibly gifted chef who had dedicated his life to food was an experience.

I also experienced meeting the man I call my husband at this fine dining restaurant. On my first day, I shook hands with this tall, dark haired, incredibly handsome man with a dreamy voice. If you couldn't tell from the description, I definitely had butterflies during our introduction. It wasn't until a month later he finally asked me out, and little did I know we would have so much in common. We were on the same page with our faith and morals. His love for his family and the way he described them sounded so magical. It didn't take us long to realize we had been made for each other. And the rest is history.

Those two years have flown. I have moved from hostess, to switching to a diner style restaurant, to serving, to switching back to fine dining, and serving again. I have become a friend, girlfriend, best friend, fiance and wife. I have loved every minute of learning, blistering, and standing on my feet for ten hours a day. It has all been worth it. Even when at the end of the day I come home, make myself a cup of tea, see the dirty dishes and laundry and think, "I have so much to do tomorrow." I need to remember what is really important. It all started at small restaurant in a small historic city, when a boy met a girl. Only God knew they would be sharing silverware, piled high laundry, and blankets every day. I am grateful for the mess. Especially if it means I have love instead.