I always wanted to cook in the before times, but never had the energy. I didn’t care about what I was putting in my body, I just wanted a safe food for minimal effort. It’s so weird to me, in the best way, to suddenly care about the process and what I’m making. I take joy in the act of creation, I experiment (those had different types of cheese and seasoning in them), I think about feeding them to the people I love, as I eat I’m enjoying them and thinking of ways I could improve and make variations for next time and I just find happiness in something I couldn’t make myself do before.