Not that anyone’s counting, but I’ve been off this website for about eight months.

A lot has happened in this time. Most of it has to do with my professional identity—as a 30-something who’s just realized I never grew out of the “what do you want to be when you grow up?” mindset. Which is unsettling, considering that by most definitions, I am, in fact, a grown up.

At my age, my parents had two kids, a house, retirement accounts, and—from the perspective of my six-year-old brain—an unshakable aura of we’ve got this figured out. Meanwhile, I’m applying for my first real “adult” job in academia, at a time that feels like the wild west. At the ripe young age of 32, having spent the better part of a decade in academia, I’m still fantasizing about what life will be like when I finally grow up and get the academic equivalent of a real adult job.

Only now, the fantasies have changed.

Instead of saving the world or going to outer space, I dream about a salary with an IRA, job security in a very tumultuous market, and the kind of granite kitchen that feels emotionally stable.

the burden of a curious mind

For as long as I have had a conscious brain, I have loved to learn and try new things. As a child, my parents realized that my hyperactive brain needed constant stimulation and engaged me in a range of extracurricular activities. I count myself as one of the lucky ones because in addition to developing a variety of interests, I developed a personality that was stimulated by learning, more than the task itself. Perhaps, it is this enthusiasm for learning that pushed me towards science. To this day, when I’m learning how to do a new experiment at work, learning to use a new piece of equipment, or teaching myself a new hobby, I am filled with the same excitement I had as a child to receive a new lego set or the newest Harry Potter. Over time, I have realized that novelty more than anything else is a source of serotonin for my brain.

And that’s where things get complicated.

Because every new hobby doesn’t just stay a hobby—it briefly becomes a new life.

I don’t just bake sourdough; I consider becoming a food blogger. I don’t just knit; I wonder if I should open an Etsy shop; or … hear me out, what about a hobby cafe and bakery where patrons can come and learn new hobbies, while sipping coffee and sampling fresh artisanal sourdough that they can take home with them?

For a while, it feels real. Convincing, even. Maybe this is what I’ll be when I grow up…

And then, inevitably, reality intervenes.

Deadlines creep in. Applications are due. The academic calendar reasserts itself. The same brain that was happily obsessing over fermentation or knitting patterns suddenly locks onto a new fixation: getting a real job.

And just like that, everything else gets pushed aside.

Days go by, then weeks, then months. Planning experiments, submitting applications, going to conferences, being socially awkward and psyching myself to talk to strangers begging to be considered, while secretly wishing I could be in the hotel room knitting, refreshing my emails 1000 times an hour hoping for life-changing news to be delivered, feeling anxious that life-changing news wasn’t delivered, rinse and repeat.

High-functioning anxiety is hilariously isolating—it’s loneliness with a full calendar.

Which is how, sometime in September, my sourdough starter—dough-by—ended up forgotten in the back of my fridge. Replaced by takeout containers and quick, efficient meals. Cooking, like so many other things, was joyful when I had the emotional space for curiosity. When the summer days were long, the air was warm, and the future was filled with possibilities.

And somewhere along the way, I seemed to have forgotten - science started as a hobby. The only one I never fully gave up on for any length of time, and maybe that’s where we lost the plot?

starting from scratch - hello world, again.

So now my dear friends, if you stuck through that cyclone of spiraling thoughts, you deserve to know what’s next. For me, and for this blog, that started as, yet another obsessive, all-consuming, hobby :)

The truth is - I don’t know, and I want that be okay. I want this to be a free space - like the back of a notebook, where fresh thoughts and ideas are scribbled in an almost illegible hand.

So if you’re up for it, I would love for you to stay on through this thought-spiral, exploration of what it means to be me - a 30-something with a multi-faceted, complicated personality that sometimes cooks, but also does other things.

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