We now return you to my regularly scheduled existential crisis...

Remember when I was good at blogging? Yeah, me either. It's been five months since I last posted. Five. Months.

Remember this post? One of the last before I virtually shut the hell up? The one where I was all fulfilled and excited about new beginnings? Remember when I thought I finally had it all figured out? Yeah. Me either.

I thought I'd found it, that I'd finally figured out what I want to be when I grow up. But here am I, looking 32 in the face, still wondering what I'm going to do with my life. Sure, my new (okay I guess it's not so new anymore) bakery life has its perks. I love getting all OCD on chocolate dipping cookies. I adore many of my customers. I've learned a TON. But if I'm really honest with myself...if I really quiet all the rambling questions and to-do lists in my brain and allow myself the luxury of self-reflection...this isn't it. I thought it was. But it's not.


My feet hurt. My schedule sucks. Customers treat me horribly on a good day. I'm broke. I miss my husband. I'm too tired to write. I miss weekends. And holidays. And the ability to call in sick. And sleep.

So, now what? I feel like a professional failure. To borrow a term from my former flak days, I've "rebranded" my career so many times I'm starting to lose track. Teacher. Publicist. Operations Director. Writer. Baker. (to name a few) I can't decide if my resume looks diversified or schizophrenic.

If I'm even more honest with myself, I know exactly what I want to be when I grow up.

I want to be a mom.

But that isn't going to pay the bills. Quite the opposite actually.

So...

Now what?

When in doubt, margarita.