Not a Tough Nut to Crack After All

If one ever questions my devotion to cakes and my small baking business, boy, have I got stories to tell you.

Okay, they are less stories than they are actual incidents that have occurred over time.

And by incidents, I really mean accidents.

From fender benders (one happened 4 days ago on the way to a cupcake delivery and one of my front tyres exploded from the impact and the back tyre cracked as well) to bodily harm I’ve caused myself that are baking or cake-related. In fact, all the mishaps I’ve experienced in the last 5 years are solely because of cakes.

The worst one has to be this crack I currently have in between my crack, rather literally.  You know how when you’re consciously being extraordinarily careful, and that’s when shit happens? Like whenever you wear white and you always end up with a splotch of curry the shape of Ireland on your top? No?

Anyway, 3 days ago, I was walking down a flight of stairs with a cake in my hand, and somehow missed a step and slid down the stairs. My first instinct was to save the cake and whilst the cake was every bit intact, I landed pretty hard on my tailbone.

Sure, my ass was a little sore, but it didn’t hurt too bad. Not until a couple of hours later, at least, and by then I could barely walk. A shoddily done X-ray shows a somewhat misaligned coccyx, where the doctor suspects a crack. The diagnosis is currently not definitive owing to the poor X-ray quality, but another X-ray so soon wasn’t recommended due to radiation exposure. One thing’s for sure — painkillers are my best friends at the moment.

I’ve certainly been down on my luck the past week, and it makes me wonder if it’s the universe’s way of telling me I need a break and rest from the cake life. And then I asked myself, who am I without cakes?

TL:DR version: I may have a crack in my lower tailbone and I’m in a lot of pain. Also, I’m devoted to my cakes and they’re the reasons behind my accidents.

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Back Swingin’

Did I tell you about the time I partook in a salsa dance class for 2 months, and how I loved it at beginning but felt depressed about going to class at the end of it?

No?

Well, that happened. As an introvert, how well I do in group activities is dependent on the people and personalities involved. The more class progressed, the more comfortable people felt to chit chat, the more vocal they grew, and the more withdrawn I felt from empty conversations. There were bound to be the know-it-alls who finally came out from hiding under the mask of humility and the curtain fell to reveal a form of petty competition I clearly had no time for. It was no longer a means for me to unwind — a leisure activity I do outside of baking all day and for me to connect with my partner. And with that, I was overcome with anxiety every time Tuesday night rolled around and it was time to part ways for my sanity.

Now listen, all these could possibly just be in my head. It is difficult to explain to a person who is at ease in social situations, like my partner, but it was something that affected me and whilst I tried to plough on, it came to a point of absolute unhappiness. We agreed to disagree, and we both also decided my happiness was more important.

I can still possibly dance the basic salsa if it may be the only way to save some lives in a game of Dance or Die. But for now, in the living room on a quiet night is perhaps more my speed.

One Year Later

Fast forward to this weekend, where, by some miraculous chance, I managed to clear my caking schedule to join a 2-day Lindy Hop beginners class. I wasn’t the least bit surprised that I had a really good time. Lindy Hop is a lot more bright and sprightly with a lot less structure, and the short-term commitment was the perfect arrangement for me. The participants were open and supportive of one another — minus the one diva who’s ever present in any class and event, and I thought the instructors were great teachers. And on the matter of personal taste, Swing jazz is something I enjoy a lot more than salsa beats.

So the plan is to make time and practice a few days a week, and film ourselves to see our progress. After one month, I fully expect us to be pros — at the beginner’s level, that is. So I’ll check in again after one month, then?

TL:DR version: I joined a Lindy Hop class and it was fun AF.