Whenever I have a layover, I always need at least one other person to hang out with. I hate being by myself. So I figure out who I like the most during the flight, and make plans to do something with them.
Well, turned out this past flight to LA was one of those rare flights where I was left to do something all by myself.
Me, myself, and I.
…And it was fun.
Had some in-n-out, read a book on the beach, and rented a car for the first time.
It’s the oldest story in the world. One day you’re 17 and planning for someday. And then quietly and without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.
The problem started when I wanted Peanut Butter cookies.
Now you need to understand — I have been sick the past few days. And in order to fight it off, I had sworn off all things bad for me. Generally, that lasts about an hour. But due to how awful it was just to swallow, I kept up with this plan really well.
(( The fact that I didn’t have anything in the apartment -i.e. cookies, chocolate, butter to make cookies..- helped))
Anyways, today was the first day where I felt better.
but for some reason, the universe was against me to have them.
Needed eggs. Tried to phone in an order and have it delivered (I know, ultimate laziness). No answer. Tried again ten minutes later. Still nothing. Put on jeans and went to store. Bought eggs. Came back to apartment. Dropped full, unopened glass jar of PB on floor. Swept up glass and PB. Scraped the last bit out of my other already opened PB, and decided to 1/8th the recipe. Added too much baking soda. Borrowed some PB from the roomie, re-added other ingredients to make up the excess baking soda. realized I had added too much egg. Decided it didn’t matter and kept going. Realized it did matter and added flour. Baked. Took cookies out too early. Doughy. Put back in oven. Oops.. now overbaked.