I’ve vowed to work 23 Sundays at the steakhouse.  I’ve made it though four and I want to hang up my food-spattered apron.  How is this different from culinary school?  It’s not.  My expectations for school were high and then, once my education commenced, I hated it.  I hated it until sometime between week 5 and week 10.  Something clicked, something changed.  Sometime in April or May, I got the hang of it, built my confidence, and became relatively comfortable.  I just have to muscle through; tough it out.  Eventually, I will find my stride, even here.