Hokay, so. You’re all ready to do some hardcore baking. You’ve got everything set up, mixer’s ready, spatula at the ready, arms just begging to start the measuring and dumping. You start measuring out the sugar, flour, cut the butter into cubes, aaand then….wait, what?!?! Where are the eggs?!
Yah.
That just happened.
Standing at the fridge, mouth agape.
And in two nano-seconds, your will to live leaves in one long sigh.
After a nice long stream of curse words, you pour everything back into their respective containers, cover the butter, toss any used bowls into sink.
That happened last night. All I could think about during the day, and while I forced myself to the gym, was the Snickerdoodles that I was going to bake as soon as I got home. I could see their cinnamon-sugar-y goodness in all of their glory. I know I could’ve continued and tried to bake them without the eggs or possibly just make something else. But after wanting to make Snickerdoodles all day, I had no desire to bake anymore. Sad, really. I could’ve gone to the store when I found out, but it was already late enough and the initial sucker punch to the gut just took the wind of out my baking sails.
Lesson to be learned here? Check to make sure I have EVERYTHING before I leave the house.
Looks like there’s going to be some angry coworkers today.
Oops.
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