the day the music died

I hate to be so melodramatic, but it's kind of my thing.

Take a few steps in my shoes...

Work has been stressful lately, you are super exhausted (both physically and mentally) from the holidays, and have been stress-eating yourself into a giant-hole-of-fatness-and-regret - celebrating your birthday with an ice cream cake six months early, anyone? 

No?  Because I totally did that on Wednesday.

After another challenging day, I decided all of my problems would be solved with pillowy meringue and sweet, tart lemon pie filling… so I whipped out the ol' pie dish and got to work on a lemon meringue pie.

What it ended up being was lemon soup in a pie shell.  Sadness.

I never want to bake again.  I just want to sit on the floor of my kitchen, pie soup in hand, a bottle of Spotted Cow by my side, and a giant spoon so I can scoop heapfuls of lemon meringue soup into my mouth and cry it out.

I never claimed to be a baker, but I am a SUPERB pie soup maker.

It gets worse.  Instead of just quitting while I was already behind, I decided I wasn't going to give up until I got something right.  It was now a self preservation issue. 

I whipped out my brand new copy of John Besh's My Family Table (Thanks Dizzle!) and found a recipe that sounded super-easy and delicious.  Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies.  Fine.

What ended up turning out wasn't even worth taking a photo of.  Not only am I a master of pie soup, I'm also a master of make-your-cookies-so-huge-that-the-bottom-gets-cooked-but-the-top-stays-completely-raw. 

Thank goodness I don't work in a bakery for a living, that would just be a disaster. :|