Today I gave notice at my job.  It means a lot of different things to me.  It’s the first step toward this huge life bomb I’m fixing to set off, the first major I-can’t-go-back-now move away from this life and this island and hopefully toward the new stuff, hopefully good stuff, hopefully stuff that won’t feel like I’m getting hit in the head with a hammer again and again and going back for more every day. It is terrifying being On My Way, having made not just my choice but my first step and doing that thing that is so elusive and scary and gorgeous and just making life leaps.  

I know what my next steps should be, but having the strength and the courage and the wisdom and the fortitude and the… other grownup sounding words that go on inspirational calendars to do those things is going to be an interesting life experiment.  Like combing my hair.  How’s it going to turn out this time and what fun combinations of cusswords will pop out my chewing gum hole this time?  Tune in.

Leaving my job is also emotional because it has been like an abusive relationship, but one with some super high high points and really low low points.  I could write a novel about this place.  I really should.  I was the very last of the original cafe employees, left from when the place was good and sweet and owned by a nice guy, and we all loved each other.  When it was taken over by a rich jerk and his wife who owned illegal gambling operations all through the island most of us left, and my dumb ass kept coming back over and over, through layoffs and abuse and nepotism and favoritism and the trashiest most ridiculous behavior in the world, things I still have trouble believing my boss has done.  

But I got to bake for people.  I got to bake anything I wanted.  I got to be creative and interesting, I got to use skills my mother taught me or skills I picked up anywhere else, and I could make anything.  Dirty chai donut muffins with churro tops, toasted coconut cheesecake, caramel chocolate chip cookie bars with oatmeal crust, brown butter roasted banana bread, devil’s food whoopie pies with vanilla cream and honeycomb, brown sugar pecan and cinnamon snails.  The best part was watching people eat something I made and smile, ask for more of it.  I got to do that.

After years of working there, of depending on me for everything, of using me and making me feel like trash, of putting me last, of stealing my tips, of harassing me on my days off, of blaming me for things my lazy coworkers did wrong, she had nothing to say about me quitting but “ok thanks”.  I wasn’t expecting flowers.  I am expecting a new start.

guys please you guys are missing out on something great when you cast the miraculous kids in a Disney au and you don’t put adrien as the princess??? like honey Marinette is not rapunzel, our innocent lil sunshine child is, and his real identity as prince noir. ladybug is Flinn Ryder, dashing and daring, but not actually a lady, just the poor daughter of two bakers, a girl named marinette
sorry guys I’m marichat and au trash