So, my first day of Baking class was terrible. All i could think about was having the teacher sign my Financial Aid so that i could pay my mortgage. It was a cold, sour morning.
I almost dropped to my knees when the group of us hanging by the door, wondering why the Teacher/Chef was not there to greet us. We were told not to return in three more days as Chef is at a Bake Off, half a state away.
I went inside the school bathrom stall. Locked the door and cried. I had not one penny. Not one under the seat cushion. Not one on the floor. Not one on the floor of my Jaquar. Not one could I find on the street. Threatening text messages from Nick and his girlfriend became a big part of this Spring Quarter. But that wasn’t even the worst part. Spring Quarter went from April to the middle of June. And I was facing Trial on March 23, 2011.
To the Judge, you are a stranger with no time to understand my values, background, experience, etc. Just like the Police. They do not know you from Adam. Most likely the Judge will tell you to sell the house. My biggest fear is no home.
Walking the streets with all my belongings in a shopping cart.
Three days later, we were introduced to our Baking Chef. Her name was Penny. She was a no-makeup, serious bad hair, hippie, who still talked about her EX and the property she had lost.
And of course, that was the exact same road I was heading down, losing the property. I was too embarrassed to tell Chef Penny my personal problems. It was hard enough for me as Baking is just another word for Math.