In full cooking regalia for a Clandestino event last week.
Does anyone else ever get into a funk at the end of seasons? I think I can personally trace it back to impatience at a molecular level. The sensation is city-wide in Chicago in March but I suspect I may be on my own in August. My greatest summer weekend pushed the funk off by a week but by mid-month I’m done with heat and inevitably stained white jeans. I want to make changes but don’t know where to start. I itch for an adventure, for a new project (or six). That back-to-school bug has never subsided for me.
Fall is my season. I wake up to fresh air and a nip on my knees as I stumble out of bed in the mornings. Oversize band t-shirt clutched to my sides doing an awkward dance into the kitchen with bare legs, a hungry HoneyCat weaving between my ankles. I wake up earlier, I leave for work earlier just to catch that morning light and take deep breaths on my street. And when I walk out of work and the light is gold, I feel like I could shoot sparks out of my fingers.
I’m getting all my wishes. I’ve already reorganized my apartment and this morning I head west to San Francisco.
It’s a big weekend for me professionally but, as has been discussed before, that makes it a big weekend for me personally as well. I’m heading to BlogHer Food as the face of The Mushroom Channel, my professional alter ego of sorts(The Mushroom Council is an Edelman client). If you’ve read it, my voice becomes apparent pretty quickly and I’m lucky that everyone seems to be okay with that. I write a food blog as part of my day job. Now I’m going to hang out with 300 like-tummied souls in one of my favorite fall cities. That's a little bit of A Okay.