Therapy, or at least an anti-depressant, in the form of culinary school

One of the reasons I knew my decision to start culinary school was the right one is that whenever I am feeling down, stressed, angry, etc all I need to do is get in the kitchen and start cooking.  For someone who is so obsessed with knowing the outcomes of things there is something so assuring with the direction of following a recipe.  I can have a million things on my mind and as soon as I start my tasks, everything clears up.  A terrible cry fest can be cured with a bowl and a whisk.

Lately this outlet has come in handy for me.  I end my day at job #1 frazzled and miserable.  I spend my long drives to school mulling the thoughts of my recently failed on again/off again relationship.  I usually get out of my car, walk into school, and go into class completely deflated.  Chef walks in, my classmates and I start talking and everything suddenly gets better.  I am no longer stressed out about my job and realize it's just a job and only temporary.  I am no longer sad about my break-up and realize it's not the end of the world and some other lucky fellow will enjoy my company someday.  

If you walk into my kitchen and see flour everywhere and cookbooks scattered, you will know I am doing just fine.