I made you some truly despicable muffins this morning. They were full of peanut butter, and oats, and the best of intentions.
They were gross.
So here we are… stuck staring each other in the face. It’s bound to get awkward.
All I have for you is a picture of my desk.
Um. I love you. I doodle it sometimes.
Can I tell you about real life?
I’m one of those girls that wears a ring on her ring finger. I do that. I’m not married. I bought my own dang ring and wear it on my ring finger. And I love it. And it’s not coming off until… well, you know. Maybe it confuses dudes:
Wait… is she married? She has a ring… wait. Is that the right hand or left? Wait. That doesn’t look like a wedding ring. Huh… I wonder if she’d give me her number so I can send her a text late at night, in like 2 weeks, and ask her what’s she’s doing. Cause… Yea.
The ring confuses dudes. I’m ok with that.
I have a letter from my friend Tyler on my desk.
Tyler is currently in Afghanistan being a soldier. I think about him and all the people over there doing brave things while I sit at my desk and complain about bad muffins. I think about them every day… mostly because I don’t want them to get shot, or shoot people, or get hurt, or hurt anyone… but well… that’s tough.
I appreciate them so much.
I’ve got this manuscript on my desk.
THE manuscript. For my book. It’s almost done.
In the meantime… it’s kinda giving me nightmares. Like… oh-my-god-this-is-a-dream-come-true nightmares.
Does that make sense?
I also have this encyclopedia-type food styling book on my desk.
It’s extensive and sufficiently overwhelming.
Wait… is my desk stressing me out? Maybe just a little, tiny bit.
I’m going to go make some vegan cookies, eat too many, and them tell you all about them. Real life.