I'm writing this night before setting off on the last big adventure with Home & Away. I'm really going out with a bang here: Tomorrow I fly to Lima, Peru, to see Macchu Pichu and the Sacred Valley. Who gets that in life? Not many. And I choose to leave it all. I quit my job earlier last week to go to culinary school full time in September. It's scary, even scarier writing it. Now it's out there to be judged by all these people. I love cooking. I love writing. I've done the writing; I still want to do the writing. I still will for The Reader.
Talking to friend, I worried today that I might be one of those people who can't be pleased. I hope not. I feel more content with me, myself than ever before. I want to take a crack at it though, the bakery/pastry thing. I want to add to what I already know. More than what I know in my head, I want to add to what I know in my hands. It's scary. I could mess up. I could hate it. I might never get health insurance ever again. But I don't think so. Nothing gets me excited like cooking.