So, it's been a while.

This whole going to cooking school, changing careers, cooking for a living thing stayed very much a vague and fantasy like undertaking for a long time. Even while I was in school, a long way from the financial comforts of my past career, it still felt like a holiday, a playground. I took it seriously and worked really hard, but it wasn't real life.

I got a job. In a kitchen. A good kitchen, a busy restaurant.

Real life came back with a vengeance.

Cooking for a living is hard work. The hours are incredibly long. The pay is little enough to make me shudder. The work is physically demanding. The pace is intense. It's all pretty real life.

I love it. I really do. It's good for me. It's good for me physically. (My back doesn't hurt anymore. My shoulders aren't hunched over from hours at a keyboard.) And it's good for me mentally. (The focus required is so intense that I don'thave time to worry or stress or fuss. I find it all very meditative.)

But it's no holiday.

And I am new at it. Starting at the bottom. I make mistakes every day. I learn something new every day.

It's taken me a while to absorb the lifestyle change. For the first while I was coming home, falling into bed, sleeping, and then staring at the wall, drained and blank, for a few hours, then going back to work to start all over again. Cooking for myself (and posting for you) wasn't on my radar. There's been a lot of toast and eggs for dinner around here.

But I think I am back. My body has adjusted to the new hours and the demands. My ego is adjusting to making mistake after mistake.

I'm craving a really nice, sit down, civilized meal today. I'm back from the market with my shopping bags full and a menu in mind. I'm going to go cook, and eat, and later I'll post to tell you all about it.

Thanks for sticking around. I'm sorry about the dead air.