Whilst sitting at a desk in the offices of my client, pensively staring at the beautiful green domed roof of Smithfields market, fingers pressed together in a prayer position against my mouth, wondering how best to deal with an increasingly awkward situation, I breathed in deeply, hoping for calm. What I was to receive was the most delicate hint of garlic from my fingertips.
A smile played on my lips as the smell evoked a feeling of comfort, the pleasure of creating a dish the previous evening, of conjuring up a recipe, of cooking for the man I love after he'd battled through a weary and frustrating day. Of the important things in my life. My breathing slowed, my shoulders eased as the tension ebbed out of me and I remembered why I am working as a consultant - to give me time to work out if I can find a way into the world of food. Officially.
I sat up straight, thrust my glasses along the bridge of nose and resolved to redouble my efforts; not only with the task in hand that day, but also with my search for a new career.
If persevere, my food future will happen. I have to believe that.