I've got da powah, yo

Believe it or not, ladies and gentlemen, I have become the kitchen deacon!!!
Dokaaaan.
It was decided by the method of elimination. They just eliminated everyone who wasn't jumping up and down with their hands in the air. And the only one left was...well...me.

See, I've always had this hangup from when I was younger of wanting to be kitchen deacon because kitchen deacon always got their own goodies. I mean, back in the day when we used to get tons of provisioning, the kitchen Kaiser would stow away the best of the stock; he'd give permission for us to eat something yummy for snack; he'd tell the home what they need to buy, and if you influenced him nicely he'd put something yummy on the menu.

These, my friends, were the powers I was looking forward to having.

But let's all for a moment, be patronized by Florence's well over-due realization of this fact: Kitchen deacon is not all it's cracked up to be. (At least, if you're not CORRUPT.)

I made my first needs list the other day and HANDED IT IN, and there still is nothing in the fridge. People come up to me and say "Yo, kitchen deacon. Where is our margarine?" And I'm saying heck if I know, I wrote it in yesterday! I go to the people who are supposed to have it (on the grounds that I just gave it to them yesterday.) And all they have to say is "Wow, yeah, god bless you! It was a nice list. Really easy to understand."

Still swooning from the high praise. Skipping off to some other kitchen deacon duties.