Shut up and eat

I'm sweating in the kitchen doing my prep work for a meal I'm to provide for a meeting tomorrow evening.
I think, god I hope these people appreciate this meal - and then I think about nothing in particular, enjoying the actions of chopping, slicing and mixing. My mind jumps to something I just read in a book by W. Somerset Maugham:
...the writer should seek his reward in the pleasure of his work and in the release from the burden of his thought; and, indifferent to aught else, care nothing for praise or censure, failure or success.
Shouldn't this apply as well to a cook?

That's what we're having for dinner.

Tired of being the meal master, all I ask is for a little input, a request, and what do I get?
"I don't know" "I don't care" (neither of which are on my menu.) Being somewhat sarcastic, I dish it up. On an empty plate, being careful not to splatter the sauce or upset the silverware as I slap the dish down in front of him.

Sometimes it is easier to just break out the Doritos or the Poptarts then face a hot kitchen and an apathetic audience.

I think I'll just drink tonight. The cook is out, you're on your own.