The Burnout Creep: When Doing What You Love Starts to Drain You
Burnout doesn’t always crash in like a storm—it creeps in, quietly, little by little. For me, it looks like sweating through another 95-degree farmers market (or 115 degrees- what was that nonsense?) while trying to smile and hand out cookies. It looks like checking sales at the end of a long weekend and wondering if all those early mornings and aching joints were worth it (lately, that would be a no). It looks like spending more time on logistics, strategy, and trying to get people to notice me than actually doing the creative work that makes me feel alive.
I can feel it again—that slow heaviness that reminds me of how I burned out back in my retail bakery days. It’s different now, but it’s still here. Honestly, maybe it never left at all but I was able to shove it down in my normal fashion.
Heat + Hustle = Exhaustion
Summer markets are no joke. I love connecting with customers, but the heat feels endless, and I can feel it in my bones after every weekend. It’s not just the physical exhaustion—it’s the emotional weight of plastering on energy when your body is drained. If I just stared at you at a summer market, my apologies, I was just too fatigued to move.
The 6 week stretch of intense heat we had in July/August took me over a month to recover from. Everyday I would sweat and try to replenish those fluids, almost collapsing from heat exhaustion several times. And my strategy was just “keep going to markets and hopefully people will show up.” But they didn’t, because no one wants a piece of cake when you’re on the surface of the sun. I wasn’t the only miserable person during that heat stretch, I was just the dummy sitting in it watching frosting melt.
The Financial Rollercoaster
Sales aren’t consistent, and that’s its own kind of stress. Summer sales were always slower at the retail shop too, but you had wedding season (WHY are people getting married outdoors in the summer?!) to give you a few boosts here and there.
Some weeks I feel unstoppable; other weeks, I’m staring at stacks of unsold bread and wondering if I should’ve baked at all. That back-and-forth makes it hard to plan, hard to trust the process, and hard to relax. In fact, I didn’t even sit on my couch for weeks. I baked and baked and tried to come up with gimmicks people might want and then watched as those also melted in the scorching heat. Everyone just wants oatmeal cream pies.
Logistics Over Creativity
I didn’t start this bakery to spend all my time juggling schedules, calculating ingredient costs, or brainstorming the next “big idea” to get eyes on my work. I started it because I love creating—recipes, flavors, little edible works of art. But right now, the balance is off. The creative spark feels smothered under spreadsheets, to-do lists, and strategies that don’t seem to land. I’m currently working on going back to wholesale because it’s financially very steady, but OH SO BORING. You gotta do what you gotta do when you’ve got a massive covid-era SBA loan hanging over your head.
The Warning Signs
The hardest part is, I recognize this feeling. I’ve been here before. Burnout doesn’t mean I don’t love what I do. It means I’ve been giving too much in the wrong places and not enough in the ones that refill me. But I can’t give myself what I need if I don’t make enough money to do anything but work. Cancellling my Vegas trip was a gut punch because I had been looking forward to that for three years, and Vegas is one of my favorite places to go. Then, the electrical problems at my house (during what was supposed to be my trip) … I mean, what if I had been in Vegas and my house had burned down? That’s a scary thought, and made me feel a bit better about not going. But I still haven’t had a vacation in three years and that’s tough.
So Now What?
I don’t have a neat bow to tie this up with. I’m still figuring it out. Maybe it looks like baking less fun stuff and doing more boring wholesale stuff. Maybe it’s giving myself space to create something just for me, not for the market table. Maybe it’s as simple (and as hard) as letting myself rest, even when the sales aren’t where I want them to be.
What I do know is this: burnout won’t be the end of me this time. I’ve learned too much from the last round. But I have to name it before I can face it. And right now, I can feel burnout creeping back in.
I may not be able to control the heat, the crowds, or the sales, but I can choose where my energy goes. And if I choose carefully, maybe I’ll find my way back again—not by pushing harder, but by giving myself permission to step back, breathe, and let creativity lead the way. I mean, I AM heading into the 4th quarter which means lots of cookies and pie and adorable holiday items…..so I’m ready for that.
