I'd forgotten how much I like the process of things. Things meaning food, and the making thereof. I feel like coming out of school I was a directionless, lifeless mess that needed a solid month of detox. Finals and life happenings whooped me real good.
This meant that my kitchen suffered a little bit. I had just dropped a solid amount of money on a new computer, I was spending a couple of weeks working 2 jobs while I was working on putting in my two weeks as a barista, and then I spent a lot of time stressing out over how on earth I was going to make a living off of tips by shoving burgers at people's faces. Also, do I know where or whom I'll be living with once my lease ends in August? Nope. Sure don't.
I'm figuring it out.