presently, my cookies clumps are somewhere between raw and melty as they make their way toward who-knows-what in the oven. my forearms are burning. both of them. because when one got so tired from mixing with my fork that i literally could no longer grasp it, i had no choice but to switch and mix impromptu with my non-dominant paw until it, too, wore itself out.
i'm admittedly cursed with a napoleonic stubbornness. i understand napoleon's dogheaded-ness was equal in opposite to his diminutive stature- and look how far it took him. my sights are much narrower than his, as i look to conquer only my kitchen, right tools or not. additionally, i'm quite comfortable with my height, whatever that may mean for the fate of my kitchen.
i'm on cookie quest because shannon's been at work for the last 16 hours.
on her day off.
on our anniversary.
as an o.r. nurse, i have some significant concerns for the safety of patients under the care of a nurse in her 16th hour of work. the hospital may be a worthy opponent to napoleon and me. in any case, the pressure's on. these cookies have to conquer, in the least, an exhausted body.
we often find ourselves in situations without the 'proper' tools. our success is solely dependent upon our ability to improvise and push through. one of few answers to debilitating days is cookies, with or without the right tools.
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