My Brain = Old

My mind won't stop lately. It is full of worry and elation and the names of food borne illnesses that I should know and only kind of do. I forgot how hard school was. How hard it is to study and to memorize and to read for the sake of remembering, not just for enjoyment. I watch these 18 year olds absorbing information like a sponge and I feel old because my mind doesn't absorb information like that anymore. This is work. Hard work. And while up for the challenge, I wish I had discovered my dream when I was 18. That I could be standing with these kids, naive and hopeful and arrogant and just so fucking sure of themselves and the paths their lives will take. I laugh when they talk about their parents riding them about going to class. I sigh when they complain because their roommate left their dishes in the sink again. I am envious when they talk about late night study sessions in the dorm rooms. And also kind of curious that culinary school has dorm rooms?

We all took our paths. Mine may be different than theirs, but no less valid. I may not have the arrogance of youth (oh, wow, I just sounded 100) but damn it, I am good at this. I love this. I love going to class and chopping up fruit and vegetables for 3 hours. I love that Chef is making us mole tomorrow because he had some extra roasted poblanos. I love that these people speak my language, no matter how little else we have in common. I absolutely love being a part of this world. What I lack in youth, I make up for in passion. And note cards. Son of a bitch, I have made a lot of note cards.

Update: I am not sure anyone cares, but my exams last week? I got a "a little big, but tight for the first week" on the practical (which was pass/fail) and a 19/20 on the written.