It all started with a midnight brownie…
I feel like this summer has been dragging… and simultaneously flying by.
Does that make any sense?
Probably not.
Nope, none whatsoever. (Maybe it’s the heat that’s frying my brain’s ability to be rational. Or maybe that just sounds like a semi-viable excuse.)
I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen this much snow – on my lawn, in the streets, and piled like Mount Everest in shopping center parking lots.
It’s crazy.
Insane.
Overwhelming.
Inescapable.
I feel like I’m living in a snow globe.
Over the past 2 years, the only kind of mail I’ve been getting is – you guessed it – college mail. “Come visit us! You’ll love it here! This is the perfect place for you!” Occassionally, I even get a letter that reads, “Thank you for requesting information, Kimberly!”
. . . I hadn’t requested information any of those times.
Lately, the amount of college mail has been dwindling – thankfully! I feel like I’ve single-handedly killed a forest by merely being on the receiving end on all of this mail. Not the best feeling.
Yesterday when I got home, I had only one piece of college mail waiting for me. When I lifted the letter, I saw something else under it . . . also addressed to me . . . and in my own hand-writing.
Weird. Weird. Weird.
Twilight Zone?
I think I have a slight obsession with breakfast.
. . . Ok, so maybe it’s not so slight. Allow me to rephrase.
I have a full-blown obsession with breakfast. I do. And I’m not afraid to admit to it.
A few weeks ago, my grandma spent the night at our house. She took us out to dinner at this awesome restaurant, CoolFish, where we ate . . . and ate . . . and ate. Honestly, I’m surprised I was able to stand up and walk out of there after the delicious (but incredibly filling) courses that I had. It was insane.
(To be fair, I think I was also insane to think that I could eat: a slice of beat and goat cheese tarte tatin, ahi tuna over Asian style noodles, and a slice of Jack Daniel’s chocolate pecan pie and white chocolate gelato. Yeah . . . my eyes were definitely bigger than my stomach that night.)
As soon as we got home, we all passed out on the couch. What a way to spend a Friday night.
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I have this bad habit.
No, it’s not drinking. It’s not smoking. It’s not speeding . . .
Actually, I take back the latter. My bad.
ANYWAY. Back to business.
Sometimes I forego recipes – even when baking.
Baking is such a precise science, so this is not exactly the best decision on my part.
Let’s consider the possible outcomes:
1.) Success.
2.) Failure.
3.) Confusion.
In this case, I baked up #3. Confusion.
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