Final Weeks of my Stage

I am about 4 weeks away from ending my stage and 5 weeks from embarking on my dream of attending culinary school in France (pending a visa approval).  Time seems to have flown by quickly.  I just finished week 7 of my stage.  My role in the kitchen is starting to expand, I am beginning to feel comfortable enough to joke with the other cooks, and it is rapidly coming to an end.  I should be celebrating because this stage is literally destroying both my physical and mental health, yet when I reflect back all I can feel is disappointment in myself.  I am not good enough to ace my way through culinary school.  I feel as if I am a failure.

I look at Ms. Stars, who is trying to move out of her garde manger station and onto the line, and I just know that when she does get the chance to move up, it will be an effortless transition.  That is how good she is.  She has more experience than me, but we're the same age and she has worked in our restaurant for only 1 month more than me, yet she can cook circles around me: blindfolded, one hand tied behind her back, while hopping on one foot.  It irritates me that I can not be on her level. 

This past weekend was a little slow in the restaurant due to the upcoming holiday.  I was able to have the opportunity to work on each station.  I started off on garde manger under the tutelage of Ms. Stars and our new extern.  She showed me how to plate a few of her dishes and then she let me take the reins while she supervised.  It was a pretty cool experience, especially when the dishes I was plating were being served to the customers who were watching me make it from 2ft away.  One of our customers told me that the dish I made was delicious.  I cracked a smile, turned to Ms. Stars and told the customer, "Thanks, but it was all her," pointing to Ms. Stars.

When things slowed down on garde manger, I floated over to the cook's line and pastry.  I helped Mr. Pirate fry a few components for his dish.  Mr. Hasselhoff let me taste a broth that I made earlier in the day, and it was delicious.  Things started going south when pastry ran out of an 'ice cream' flavor.  I overheard Ms. KP/ZD mention it to chef and then I heard my name get thrown out.  A state of dread came over me.  I knew I would be asked to go make the 'ice cream.'  When Ms. KP/ZD came over and talked to me, she reaffirmed my fear.  She looked sad and sorry for me.  I don't know if it was a look of fear in her eyes, fear that I may screw up and she would be out of 'ice cream,' or sorry that she had to give an un-experienced person such a monumental task.  She gave me the recipe and I quickly went into the back and started mise-ing out the ingredients and making the 'ice cream.'  It came out a success.  Chef tasted it and said it was good.  Talk about a burden being lifted off your shoulder, yea?