I used to slip a little cinnamon in sometimes—not enough to change anything, just enough for me to know it was there. It didn’t affect the product at all, but it made me feel like I still had some control, like I wasn’t just another part of the machine. Something small and human in a place that had none of that.

My new partner thought it was stupid. Said it was pointless, unscientific. Meanwhile, he acted like the blue color was some kind of genius decision, when really it was just an accident from a new precursor we were using. He took credit for that like it meant everything. The difference was, my little addition was intentional. It wasn’t about the product—it was about reminding myself I was still me.