What to Do When Ctrl+Alt+Delete Can't Fix Your Cooker (or your Bread)

I set out to bake bread. Just bread.
Nothing fancy — ✨no sourdough starter from a sacred Himalayan spring, no artisanal crust with French credentials✨ — just a soft, chocolatey bun that could make me feel like my life wasn’t spiraling.

Instead, I made dough that never rose, buns that stayed emotionally unavailable(just like men in my life), and a pressure cooker that now looks like it survived a boss fight.

🐾So, what went wrong?

In a moment of high ambition (and low pantry stock), I decided I’d make two recipes at once.
Sweet cocoa buns and savory cheesy discs.

I had no baking powder, a scary oven, no chill.
But I did have misplaced confidence, one very confused cooker, and a belief that “vibes” would carry me through.

Spoiler: they did not.

By the time the savory discs were puffing up in the cooker like they knew what they were doing (they didn’t), I had already kneaded, over-kneaded, doubted, reshaped, and gently begged my sweet dough to rise.
It stared back at me like it knew my inner turmoil.
We were both soft. And under pressure. And not quite ready.

🐾Meanwhile, in real life...

Somewhere between greasing plates with ghee and Googling “can I substitute baking powder with confidence?” I realized:
I might not be ready for life either.

I have 23 days until my exam—the one that determines whether I get to move forward or just stay simmering in this pressure cooker of postgrad uncertainty.

And just like my dough, I’ve been... resting. Maybe too long. Maybe not enough.
Also like the dough, I’ve been weirdly sticky, unmotivated, and slightly underproofed.

To make things spicier, I fell sick too. Again.
As my best friend says, with both concern and admiration,

“You are the sickest person I know.”

Not in the cool Gen-Z way. In the ‘your-immune-system-has-left-the-group-chat’ way.

🐾And somewhere in all of it… imposter syndrome

It crept in silently, like smoke from under the cooker lid.
Whispering things like:
“You should be better at this.”
“Everyone else is miles ahead.”
“What are you even doing applying for jobs when you can’t even proof dough properly?”

It’s laughable — but also not.

Because imposter syndrome doesn’t care if you're sick, tired, or trying.
It just shows up. Loud. And wrong.

And still... I didn’t give up.

🐾 Here’s what matters most:

I didn’t quit.
Not when the dough didn’t rise.
Not when the cooker started smelling like ✨regret✨.
Not even when I was sniffling through my worn-out T-shirt like a Victorian ghost on deadline.

Because even through all the mess, I still showed up.

• I applied for jobs.

• I updated my resume (twice).

• I sat through an AI-powered interview that judged me silently while I fake-smiled through an accent that clearly gave me away.

And maybe I’m not fully prepared.
Maybe my notes are a legit war zone.
Maybe I haven’t looked at physics since the bread was still edible.

But I’m still here. Still trying. Still showing up.

Growth doesn’t always look like Pinterest study tables and 6 AM wake-up routines.
Sometimes it looks like…
— a slightly burnt pressure cooker
— a bunch of buns that never became buns
— and a girl who’s still fighting for her future, even if her immune system isn’t.

🥖 Final thoughts

If you’re reading this, I hope you know:
It’s okay to be a little undercooked right now.
We all rise eventually.
Even if it takes longer than the recipe said.

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— Written on a tired brain, by a tired girl, surrounded by the faint smell of burnt steel, resilience, and the distant yelling of her mother dearest.