“No, it’s not story time.”

I feel like I’m talking to one of the cats with that line, but I think it actually goes, “Sorry Merlin, not bedtime” as he follows me hopefully into the bedroom every time I wander that direction in the evenings.

After I announced myself as Officially Crazy to Selina by email, Monday afternoon sometime around 2:30-3, I declined to go into details. “Not story time.” Mostly because it’s embarrassing, and partially because it’s too hard to write into detail from my phone which is what I have to work with these days while I’m at work.

Well ‘Officially Crazy’ was marked by my first time spontaneously breaking into tears, as I was coming back from lunch. (Of course at the end of my lunch, so I had to get myself back together ASAP and try to look normal at my desk and get through the afternoon.)

And get through the week.

And etc.

So she sent me this recipe for Emotioinal Breakdown Cupcakes (which is totally appropriate since I’ve been wanting to make cupcakes just for baking therapy.) My first thought glancing at it from my phone was, “Wow that [recipe] looks crazy… no pun intended.”

Then reading the story, I actually got a little tense with recognition of that feeling. Not exactly the same experience of course – I’ve never had to make baklava in the middle of the night – but if I had to pick a specific incident there was not being able to find the wasabi while making wasabi salmon. I remember Andrew walking over and just calmly started putting things back in the fridge after I had pulled them out all over the floor and in the back of my head thinking, “wow he’s gotten good at this.”

I had to stay up write this at 1am or it’d never get written. At least it’s a better reason to not sleep than staying up all night organizing my sarongs. But tomorrow’s not Friday either, as much as it’s felt like it should be all day.

“Sorry Merlin, not weekend.”