Doom, and random other musings.

[pixel39]

Someone listened to my lament, if I had a lament, and they opened a new Sweet Celebrations storefront within easy striking distance of work (as opposed to, say, Furthest Maplewood or Darkest Burnsville). Unfortunately it is in the same plaza as a Hancock, and as Skeins. And a Pier 1. And Lunds (with its accompanying olive bar).

Luckily I have iron will. And nowhere to put stuff. And no money.

I have marzipan fruit molds now, and some nifty dusts, and more almond paste. But I can't play with them until after Quest.

And I have a salad. I have been reminded that in some situations my body interprets hunger pangs the same way as it does the emotional equivalent of being punched in the gut. Thus I have been feeling pretty much the same way all bloody day, and some of it apparently has been hunger pangs. Gah. Not fair. Not fair in the slightest. It is, however, different than "too upset to contemplate food without throwing up".

Comments

[noveldevice.livejournal.com]

Doom! Doom!

[lady-azure.livejournal.com]

It could be worse. You could live a block from the place like me.

I, unfortunately, have a will more akin to marzipan. *grin*

[pixel39.livejournal.com]

I resolved some while ago that I wouldn't get anything new unless I had a place to put it. So I've been pretty good, for the most part. But I am a magpie, and there is a lot of *little* cake decorating paraphenalia that I do have room to store--tips, icing color, petal dusts, that sort of thing. And that stuff adds up.

*sighs*