“What do you do for a living?” It’s a question that can tell you a lot about a person, their interests and the stage of their life they are at. For the past decade, my answer was always easy: “a chef.” This would often be met with excitement, followed by: “Oh, I’d love to be a chef!”, “Imagine living with a chef!” or, “Ooh, I bet your dinners are incredible.”
But honestly, the life of a chef was far from glamorous. I’d often rush home in the afternoon in the 45 minutes I had between a split shift to walk my dog, having left the house at 6am. Despite cooking professionally, my own meals often consisted of a store bought sandwich that I would grab before returning to work for the second shift of the day. On those days, I’d be lucky to get the last train home before midnight.