It's been one of those nights. It followed one of those days. And it culminated in this night. One of this night. One of ... those nights? These nights? It. Is. Still. This. Night. Make it go away!
First, I had to pay a handyman. He wasn't home so I slid the check under the mat at his front door. When he asked me about his money, I told him what I had done. And no, the check was no longer there. Of course it wasn't. And chances are, he doesn't believe that I actually did leave it there.
Next I had to pay a pest control service so they would come back to my rental property and perform their final service. I paid them ... but they didn't get it. Of course they didn't. So they didn't come.
Rick is busy filling out some forms for a new doctor he's hoing to tomorrow. "How do you spell stenosis?" I yell back that I don't know, even though I do.
And while he fills put repetitive paperwork, I am busy baking a cake that I have to bring to my work tomorrow in honor of the October birthdays. I wanted it to be homemade so I worked hard at this cake. All night. It truly is a masterpiece. A masterpiece of mush. I created a strawberry cake with a wonderful buttercream frosting. I also baked cookies because ... I had some extra time on my hands??? Sure. Okay. Too bad they burned. But it was okay. Extra time, remember?
The buttercream frosting was too sweet. TOO SWEET. So I did what they suggested ... I added milk. And suddenly I had soupy too sweet frosting on my hands. To thicken it up, I added more butter. Now it was too buttery as well as too sweet. I took another tip from the recipe maker and added two tablespoons of cocoa powder. And now I had a light brown version of this too sweet, way too buttery buttercream frosting.
I went ahead and frosted my cake, knowing that this cake would not be going to work with me tomorrow. It was a poor version of Neapolitan, as the white buttercream was not mixed very well with the chocolate powder. White was peeking out from everywhere. And it wasn't until I finished frosting the cake that I noticed in the recipe that I had missed one step. Kind of an important step, I might add. Beat at medium speed for five minutes. Yep, missed that. I was lucky to have completed two minutes. But hey, I'm impatient.
"How do you spell hospital?" Rick called out.
I cleaned up the kitchen, I packed up my cookies. I prepared my lunch and I took care of the dog. I cooked dinner (well, dominoes did) and I got all of my laundry started. Too bad I didn't get it finished though. I ran out of extra time.
And I may never have free time again, judging by all the messes that I have yet to clean up.
And all the words I need to spell for Rick ...