My new office is full of bakers. Not that I’m really complaining, being on the receiving end of such delicacies, but it’s ever so ridiculous walking out of the kitchen with cookie in hand every time I go to pour myself coffee, or hot water for tea, or for no good reason whatsoever. The holidays are over, largely, and the influx of delicious, fresh pastries is straggling to an end, but the stash I’ve managed to collect is larger than ever. Chocolates from the doctors, cookies from coordinators, and the most amazing cake bites from s5; I am just drowning in sweets. I’ve managed to pawn most of it off on roommates and family, but everyone’s sweet tooth seems to have met their match.
I secretly want to put everything into a shoe box and leave it in the basement for the dormice (they deserve a little reward too for braving subzero temperatures in their furry little blazers), but after learning the hard way with peanuts and crazed squirrels, I’d rather not invite an infestation into my house. So I nibble lazily between meals, trying to explain it off as fuel for handstands or whatever trouble I will get myself into later, and as much as I complain about it, I wouldn’t know what to do if my supply ran out.