Personal Narrative: The Culinary Institute Of America

The calendar marked March 2, 2016. It was around 6:30 pm or so and Nadya had just got home from school after a long day. Before she was able to get comfortable, her mom silently handed her an eight by eleven-inch white envelope with The Culinary Institute of America at the top left. This could only mean one thing, but she didn't wanted to get her hopes up too high. She nervously opened the envelope and slowly pulled out the letter that was in it. She then read the letter to herself while her mother stood there watching. After reading the first line and ignoring the rest, she screamed and then her mom followed. She had just found out that she was accepted into her dream school, The Culinary Institute of America.
She had always loved food and enjoyed learning how to make it. In fact, when she was little, she would watch her mom bake these delicious pastries and want to do the same. Fast forward to the end of senior year, she arrived at The Culinary Institute of

My mom dashed into the kitchen and wore her oven mitt to remove the cookies from the oven because she didn't trust me to do that safely myself.
As I picked up a cookie and blew on it, the hot chocolate chip on top got stuck on the tip of my fingers. I licked off the melted chocolate chip on my fingers and took a little bite into the rich soft chocolate chip to fully enjoy it. The smell of the chocolate chip cookies filled the air in the small kitchen then eventually escaped into the living room.
Before I knew it, I was on my eighth cookie, but decided that it still wasn't enough. I knew that it was a bad idea to have some more, but I went for it anyway. By the time that I was on my eleventh cookie, I could feel myself getting sick because of all that sugar. The worse part was that I also had a sugar rush, which was an awful experience because I ended up crashing from all that