It was a Saturday in November. I was horribly late for work and to make matters worse, I couldn't find my car keys, my wallet and my cell phone. Now, I know these things occasionally happen to most people. But not me. In fact, never. If you've seen my pedestal and my work station you'd understand what I'm talking about. My friend Graeco always commented on how disgustingly organized I was - pencils should be in the baskets and markers go in the blue box. My books are arranged by genre (never by title!) and I know that funny biographies like Jenna Jameson’s How to Make Love Like a Pornstar should not in any way mix with philosophical novels such as Pascal Mercier’s Night Train to Lisbon. So not being able to locate the top three essentials was alarming to me. It all happened at the same time and at that very moment I realized that I didn't belong anymore. Something was not right.
I went to the office and even before I could clock in, I was done typing my resignation letter. It took me less than 10 minutes to type the whole thing. It was an easy decision. To say that is ironic since I loved everything (well, almost) about my job and for the longest time, I thought that it was something that I could do forever. They pay was generous and the benefits were something that I can't complain about. The best part was you could never ask for better colleagues.
But, here I am. Four months after the letter and two months after leaving the corporate world (after almost a decade), I became a journalist-turned-corporate junkie-turned-cake designer and baker.
While I grew up watching my mother in the kitchen, I never really paid any attention and was never interested in flour and eggs or what happened after it came out from the oven. I regret this but my mother has kept all her recipes and I thank her for that. I don’t have any formal training but what my mother has shared and given me is something that a pastry school can never offer me.
Three years ago, my husband, who often travels, brought ridiculously priced cupcakes from Missouri ( I had to convert it to peso – I can’t help it). They were rightfully good and I decided to bake some using my mother’s recipes. I gave some of it to friends, they liked it and before I knew it, I was running home from work for orders. I found my calling.
I realized that with cakes, you can incorporate art and designs. Nothing is impossible and everything can be done. After the modest success in cupcakes, I ventured into cake decorating and carving. It was as natural as learning how to walk. I love color and patterns. While other kids learned how to drive a bike or roller skate, I was busy painting, coloring, and molding. Books, crayons, paints and clay were my favorite things and I didn’t care much for Rockstar Barbie or Care Bears.
A lot of people told me I was crazy to leave my job. Maybe. But sometimes, you don’t really have to chase after what you want. It finds you and then it defines you.
