I'm still at odds with my dissertation topic. I thought this morning, on the way to work, in the quiet, cold, windy, barren, desert tundra commute, while listening to 70's and 80's music (and being denied Whitney Houston's "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by a husband not in the mood for sickly-sweet 80's pop), that maybe my lead in the Wellness Committee at work could be my dissertation topic. My moral compass (the one that knows my company is paying for my PhD) is at odds with my true passion (the one that knows that working at my company will suck my soul dry).
But really, what do I care about people's health? I care about cooking and teaching those who want to learn how to cook. I can talk people in circles about the value of cooking and care and social happiness, but who cares? I cook because I love to. Because, selfishly, it fulfills ME. Of course, I love that my husband loves my cooking and praises me for every meal I serve him, of course, I love that my friends come to my house for not only the company, but to see what I'm cooking next, but it's still very selfish. I cook for myself, even when no one is here to compliment me. Plain and simple: I-L-O-V-E-T-O-C-O-O-K. I have to stop pretending it's for this greater good of health and community and all that is holy.
I have this sinking feeling that I really don't belong in a PhD program. It's on my stupid bucket list, and I have a means to do so, but it's difficult because I'm not sure if it's what I want. I want to cook and sit on the beach at sunset sipping delicious wine, surrounded by my husband, and my friends, both old and new. But for now, I will ignore the fact that I have no dissertation topic, that assignments are coming due, and I'm on vacation in California wine country in 8 days. It's time for Top Chef Just Desserts. Bon Appetite, my Friends!
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