[ WP ] Your username

I both loved and hated my college course. Day in, day out, I was covered in flour, powdered sugar, almond paste and marzipan; my nose full of the wonderful smell of living yeast, I stood over the stove, glaring down at the concoction in the pot. 
 
 I fucking hate caramel sauces, I really do. 
 
 The thermometer slowly crept higher and higher, the red alcohol passing tickmarks of degrees, and then - NO! I smelled burnt sugar just under the surface and swore, throwing the pot in the sink across the room, shouting Hot Sugar at my idiot classmates who stood around idling on their phones. I had struggled nonstop with various parts of the class, while the others excelled and were allowed to stand and wait for others to catch up. 
 
 I hated it. 
 
 But the allure of fresh-baked bread, of having a chance at making beautiful cakes, sweet pastries and savory treats was too much - and so it went that I continued to be miserable and angry.
