It’s been Eating Away at Me For Some Time Now
It’s taken me only two semesters of graduate school—aka $15,000 in loans—to decide that I’m not interested in getting a Master’s degree in English literature. I’ve finally decided to realize a dream that’s been roasting in my noggin’ for going on three years now. I want to go to culinary school. And I don’t mean just take a few classes. I want to do what Julia Child did and go to a FANCY culinary school. Not necessarily the world-famous Cordon Bleu, but still, somewhere prestigious would be nice. It would just be so delightful to me, as both an aspiring food writer/gourmet chef/fabulous baker. I want to chop up onions the right way for hours every day until I master knife skills. I want to learn to make a pretty poached egg that doesn’t overcook on the inside. And I am willing to take out a huge loan in order to do it. I’d prefer to get a job to begin paying off my current loan, and then save up to pay for culinary school, but I’m not the patient sort.
And I’m sure that like my parents, boyfriend and best friend, you are secretly (or, as in the case of father and boyfriend, not so secretly) worried about my sanity in wanting to pursue such a venture. I know I would probably write it off as a pipe dream if I were them. But they’re all at least pretending to be supportive, which I dearly appreciate. Although if they ever tell me I’m crazy or dreaming too big, we all know I won’t listen anyway because who’s to say what I can or cannot accomplish? Only my cat Jane is allowed to say I’m crazy because only crazy knows crazy, right? Although of course as I write, she’s sleeping purrrrrrfectly quietly on my lap.
So what do you think?