Trading in the Apron for a Lab Coat Anonymous

Minuscule white particles floated down gently through the air, but, it wasn't snowing, and I was inside. In my haste to take the next batch of (most likely burning) cookies out of the oven, I had turned the mixer up a touch too high, causing the flour to fly out of the mixer and rain down upon the kitchen counters.

This scene, however startling, was a pretty regular occurrence in my kitchen. Whether it be airborne flour, splattered icing, or a dropped cake, something was always flying around the kitchen. At this point, I considered myself more of an experimenter than a baker. My baking portfolio mainly consisted of half-iced, mostly-edible creations. They didn't carry enough merit to fully be called desserts, but they weren't horrible. They were closer to science experiments. It was as if I were a mad scientist; rather than baking ingredients, I had chemicals boiling and bubbling in their steaming, brightly colored test tubes. My messy kitchen transformed into an experiment filled laboratory, and my flour-covered apron morphed into a chemical-stained lab coat.

In my lab I was in my element, twirling around as if the lead in a ballet, pouring my beakers and tubes into vibrant mixes, looking to create something new. I was always...