The demon wakes me in my sleep again, the weight of her presence weighing me down, pressing me into the bed. It’s always different when I wake up on a night like this. I always know when she’s there. I hold onto my breath. I scan the room until I see it, her hunched figure perching in the corner on top of my desk. A paper falls to the floor.
When I was in third grade there were exactly 14 kids in my class. One of them was the new girl, the talk of the entire third grade. She was different from the rest of us, most of who had never managed to even leave the state. There were space camp stickers on her binder and she wore glasses and overalls with her hair in an untamed poof on her head. But it was her smile that I noticed first, a smile that could charm the daylights out of anyone.
I am about a year out from culinary school now, and I find myself missing it often. It was one of the best and hardest experiences of my life. If you’re here, you’re probably considering culinary school, or at least curious about it. Before I started I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. A lot of my thoughts, along with those of my classmates, were misconceptions. There is so much they don’t tell you before you get there that you have to figure out on your own. This list is the one I wish I had before I started.