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So Not the Party Girl

In an effort to be more social, I agreed to participate in the first annual cookie exchange at work this morning. I've never done an cookie exchange before, and that fact alone didn't bode well for my social phobia, perfectionist tendencies, and leeriness about eating food from other people's kitchens.

But I persevered. My grandmother recommended her favorite cookie recipe (which is actually a cake recipe--cut into bars). Last night I whipped up a delightful batch and licked the icing bowl clean...after I spread the bulk of it on the cookies. I wrapped everything in some plastic bowls and topped them with a Christmas bow.

All was well until I was 1 dozen cookies short. At 10:45 last night I drove 7 miles to the nearest store (Walgreens) and then drove another mile to the Winn-Dixie for powdered sugar. I washed dishes as I listened to Letterman, and I was finally in bed around 12:30. And up again at 4:45.

The cookie exchange was DELIGHTFUL. I laughed as I sipped black coffee and listened to the banter from my chair in back corner of the room. Each one of us had some sort of issue with the cookie baking. Burned batches. Short supplies. Frets over packing.

I survived it with all my fingers and toes still intact, but I was even more thrilled to get home tonight. As soon as I walked through the door, I laced up my sneakers, grabbed a dog, and wandered the perimeter of my property as the sun set through the neighboring trees. Alone. Talking to myself. My thoughts unraveled with each step.

And I had some cookies waiting inside for dinner.

Comments

Wish I had some of those cookies. And the walk. And also wish you could be at my house tonight for girlz night.
Christy said…
Yay! Now you know the secret - all of us who bake and make are up at 12:30 driving from store to store to make up for the messes we've made. And somehow, we pull it together and have a blast anyway.
I'm glad you tried it and I'm glad you sat in the back of the room. That's what I would have done.
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