The Lost Year

I don't know where to begin. This blog is unfamiliar to me, typing this is strange. It's like working a muscle that you haven't used in a while...the knowledge is there, but the ease and intuition with which you use it is gone. But it can come back. It will come back.

I have been gone a year. Longer than that, but I'll round down. So much has happened. Perhaps most importantly, at least in the context of this blog, is that I discovered what I want to do with my life. Or rather, what I don't.

I don't want to bake for a living. I tried, and I'm so glad I tried, but it is not the path for me. I don't regret the detour – if I never had taken it, I would have always wondered what could have been. But my body is tired, my mind is tired, and when I come home, the last thing I want to do is bake after I've been doing it for eight hours.

So the blog grew dusty in the corner. So many people expressed their sadness that I had stopped, and I felt guilty, like I was letting people down. Also, surprise, because I didn't realize people cared that much. But I couldn't bring myself to come here when I knew my heart wasn't in it.

I'll be starting a new job in the new year, one that has nothing to do with baking. And I hope that sparks my passion again. It's still in me, lying dormant. That's my hope. I'm not sure what shape or direction this blog will take in the future, but I'm going to pour my heart into it. That's all I can do.

Thanks for sticking by me.