Pattern Observed

I guess I bake mostly when I'm bored or upset...
today's haul includes bread and a big ol' batch of cookies. w00p.
last week it was a pie and home-made pizza.

Which I guess... really is good because the times when I'm bored will feed me when I'm not. xD
There would also have been challah and/or hot cross buns today if it weren't for that silly biking accident that prevents my kneading.

Also, I've finally figured out that I'm hungry for stories. Epic ones. I want to be sucked into the adventures of men and women who acquitted themselves well in the world. For a long time I've denied myself a good story, thinking, oh, I know all the plotlines, there's nothing that can surprise me anymore, so there's no point in reading them. Plus school keeps me thoroughly occupied with scientific papers. But really, there is nothing so wonderful as thoroughly well-written prose used to bring to life a gripping story. And this time, I don't intend to read stories as one being introduced to the concept; this time, I shall read them as an apprentice, out to learn the ways of great men and women before going out to make an attempt at womanhood. You see, lately I've been realizing that our generation is obsessed with identity (myself included).
You can see it in the proliferation of coming-of-age stories and prequels to famous stories.
This idea frustrated me because surely, knowing your identity (coming of age) is just the beginning of life - we must have strength left with which to fight the real battles we will face as adults.
So I'm left with questions.
Why does our generation care so much about knowing who we are? Does this fascination have a root in history?
What effect will this have on how we deal with the things that grown ups must deal with? Surely there must be huge repercussions.
Was identity a problem for other generations and if so, how did they handle it?
Could this be the main struggle of our generation, more subtle yet more central than the battles of previous generations?
Or have I got this completely wrong?
As you can see, I haven't finished thinking this through. But it's a start. And as sure as I am that I bake to stave off boredom, so sure am I also that my thoughts move in a circular motion, coming around again and again to be mulled over in the water-wheel that is my mind.
I'll keep you posted.
PP