Look, my new job is a plus is every way — a new field that’s more suited to my talents and likes, more pay, a better boss, more growth potential — but as I took that beautiful loaf of seven grain sandwich bread out of the oven, I realized that a big part of it was that commuting twice a week didn’t allow me to bake bread for my kids’ lunch any day we needed it, and that making bread whenever I want to because I am home and I can makes me happy.
Fuck work. Bake bread.