My job has made
me stray far too away from what I love doing. Haven’t been in the kitchen for almost 6 months now and I’m
missing the times that when I woke up in the morning I almost said to myself
fuck it! Leave my current job and start cooking again. But still, I keep on dragging these feet
to my workplace for I don’t know how many more months… urghhhh…
This afternoon, when I go through my collections of
photograph, I found this. A
Chiabatta bread that I knead, half a year ago. Not my moment of glory, but it pleases me though. Reminds me of what I love doing..
I often envy those, who manage a café, even a small one and
have some of their signatures on
the menu. Those whom I often dream
would be me, running and happy and loving every moment of it. I hope someday soon, I will have enough
courage and drive to risk it… (sigh)
