The sadness of unsatisfying shortbread
I woke up in the small hours of the morning to find that Ivan had decided draping himself over the back of my head as I slept was the most comfortable sleeping position known to cat-kind.
Unfortunately, the day went downhill from there.
It culminated in my burning a batch of toffee shortbread cookies for my guaranteed failure of a hosuewarming party on Saturday. I am not sure what I did wrong, and it makes me sad and frustrated.
I am also wondering what excuse I'll dig up for myself next weekend to avoid facing the fact that not only am I empty and dry feeling in the writing department, but I was probably never any good to begin with.
I am very, very good at finding excuses, though.
Unfortunately, the day went downhill from there.
It culminated in my burning a batch of toffee shortbread cookies for my guaranteed failure of a hosuewarming party on Saturday. I am not sure what I did wrong, and it makes me sad and frustrated.
I am also wondering what excuse I'll dig up for myself next weekend to avoid facing the fact that not only am I empty and dry feeling in the writing department, but I was probably never any good to begin with.
I am very, very good at finding excuses, though.