Being scheduled is what the mall does to you โ they own the hours and you show up empty. Autonomy is what my grandmother does: she decides at 3:47 a.m. that the broth needs another two hours, that today's bones are different, that the rhythm changes because she knows the rhythm. The phแป shop runs on no calendar โ it runs on the bones, the season, the fishermen bringing something good, my son walking through the door at lunch, or not. When you work for someone else's schedule you are a tool; when you own the schedule you are a person making choices, even small ones, even just the choice to taste the broth yourself before anyone else does. My father worked in a factory with a time clock. I work in a kitchen with my grandmother's hands. There is no comparison.
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