Wrapping up year six.

Significant weekend. It marked the six year anniversary of my big fucking leap. I walked away from something I never understood and didn't care about into something I hoped would be my life. Now it's cliches. 'Seems like yesterday'. I'm not where I thought I'd be, but...I'm where I should be. I hate to say I've learned lessons, grown, whatever. What I've done is struggled, worried, flailed, failed, moped, evolved, sacrificed. I am no the person I was before. I am now a cook. I don't know when the transition happened but it is more recent than some would recognize. I know now that 1) I can probably spend more time on my feet than you. 2) wash dishes faster than you 3) I can be very alone, and be ok. I am still not sure of my future. I now that there is more out there if I quit cooking. It seems as if I have turned my life into some sort of obstinate mouse in a maze study. I refuse to quit, even though I sometimes think I may be happier doing something else. However, I have known thrills and rushes that most don't achieve on a daily basis. There is satisfaction and discernible accomplishments on a daily basis. It has been six years. I can make good pasta. I can cook it perfectly everytime.