About 2 years ago I left my job as a high-tech recruiter. I had been working in this job since I left college. I fell into this job really. I had never intended to end up in any sort of office job. The long and short of it, I decided not to go to med school and somehow found myself in a job as a recruiter. Turns out I was pretty good at it and I rose through the ranks fairly quickly. But when I left my job without having another one lined up, it was a relief. I was finally finished with something that I never meant to start. I was so burned out on the job and I no longer had any inkling of love for what I was doing. I am not sure I ever had any real love for it, but I am a competitive person by nature, so it was easy to get caught up in it without realizing it.
Once I had left the industry, I would jokingly tell people that I was a “recovering recruiter.” It was a very tongue-in-cheek thing to say, especially when there are real people suffering from real addictions. Using my rehab line was less than PC, but I liked it. And then… I had to return to work. I had to “suck it up”, so to speak.
While I still don’t feel any love for having an office job, I understand that it is necessary. I realized that I couldn’t call myself a recovering recruiter and it bummed me out. Then I decided to look it up. Sadly, it turns out that my definition was too spot on. Perhaps next time I want to give something up, I should look it up first. Before I name it.
[ree-huh-bil-i-teyt, ree-uh-], re·ha·bil·i·tat·ed, re·ha·bil·i·tat·ing.
verb (used with object)
- 1. to restore to a condition of good health, ability to work, or the like. (YIKES – this hits too close to home)
- 2. to restore to good condition, operation, or management, as a bankrupt business.
- 3. to reestablish the good reputation of (a person, one’s character or name, etc.).
- 4. to restore formally to former capacity, standing, rank, rights, or privileges.
While I was preparing to return to work, I found myself overcome with stress and anxiety. I hadn’t had to go to work, much less commute and do the office thing, for over 2 years (not counting the work I did because I wanted to). I had been fortunate enough to finally be in a position to be with my kids – and one of them 24X7. I had also sprouted a blog and a rather healthy (again, the definition might kill me here!) cooking practice. I suddenly saw many of the elements of my life that I loved falling out of place.
So what would any foodie girl do? I made something with chocolate, of course! My other fall-back food is Chinese, but I didn’t have the stuff I needed on hand and chocolate was far more appealing. Anyway, about 10 years ago there was a woman who would sell these high-end French pastries at the Farmer’s Market. I would happily trudge down to the market on Sunday morning and buy myself a yeasty-chocolatey bread. It was literally dream-worthy. I honestly have never forgotten how good it was (did I mention this was 10 years ago?!). Anyway, I decided it was high time that I attempted to recreate that bread. I am not ready to share the recipe with you yet (my husband said it should become a family secret!), but I thought that the photos might entice you. It really was delightful. Throw in a cup of hot tea and my world was suddenly OK again.