Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
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Business is...pretty flipping great today. I know by most standards three customers in the span of four hours isn't the best but compared to opening day, I'm practically a celebrity. Sierra's Sweets has been open a week now and I know I have a shit ton of work to do before this bakery reaches the success I want it to but it's work that I'm willing to put it. I'll get there some day. I'm sure I will.
Still, I'm only human so as I calculate my current bank balance and the money required to maintain this shop, I can't help but feel a flash of nerves. I'm walking a thin line here. Like, vagina razor thin. If I don't get a boatload of customers and soon I'm going to be in big trouble. It's one thing to start your own business but keeping it going is something else altogether. Especially when you have this picture in your head of what you hope your business will look like and the real thing isn't like that all. It's a soul-crushing realization and it's hard not to doubt yourself. It's hard to push the thoughts of failure away.
I take the calculator away and tell myself that's enough. It's only been one week. Small business owners always talk about how the first year is the hardest. I've been at this a whopping nine days so I need to suck it up and prepare myself for things to get even worse. That's just the reality. But this time next year this whole bakery will be full of happy and fed customers. I'll run out of packaging for personal deliveries and I might even have kitchen staff other than myself. Yeah. I know it. One day, though. Just not today or any of the days coming up.
I open up my phone since no one is here anyway and scroll through the bakery's Instagram account. That's when I notice I'm up to seven hundred and fifty followers and grin, screenshotting it and posting it to my story. I add a thank you caption and let it load. Only as soon as I click refresh, I'm suddenly down to seven hundred and forty-nine followers. My jaw drops. Which asshole never wants to see me win? I delete the damned story with a few choice words and get rid of the phone again. That's what I get for going on it in the first place. Fail.
When I check the clock I realize I still have four hours in my shift to go. My head thumps to the counter, accompanied by a miserable groan. I hate that this is my dream job and I'm so unhappy. It shouldn't be this way, right? Baking makes me so, so happy. It reminds me of my childhood and I had a really great childhood. Weight issues were always there, yeah, but my childhood was way before I realized the world was full of assholes and saw myself as something society would never accept. To me, I was just like any other person. I was just Sierra, and Sierra always loved baking. It was a happier and simpler time.
"Fuck it," I mutter, grabbing my apron and tying it around my waist. Baking is what makes me happy so that's what I'm going to freaking do. And I'll bake something the bakery isn't currently selling. Trying new recipes always excites me and it's safe to say I could use some excitement right now.
My eyes scan the kitchen and I try to remind myself of the things I should be grateful for. This kitchen is state of the art and a huge chunk of my savings went into it. The steel appliances are every baker's wet dream, from the dual-oven to the stand mixer to the spacious fridge that could literally hold two dead bodies no problem. I was so excited when this kitchen came to life exactly the way it looked in my head. Now it's mine and I can use it whenever I want to do whatever I want so why the hell was I sulking two feet away with my back to it? I haven't used this kitchen nearly enough as it deserves to be used. It's time to get over my pity party and appreciate what's in front of me.
