...and I'm still baking. I don't estimate being all finished up until at 1am at the soonest.
I love baking. Even now. But I had one of those moments of self-realization...
I try way too hard to please people. To make everyone happy. I never think that anything I do or just me as a person is good enough way deep down, so I compensate.
That's why I have a batch of Peanutellas (my made up bikkie), a batch of peanut butter cookies - half of which have been dipped in chocolate - and two pans of brownies in the kitchen.
I know, logically, that there are going to be a bunch of happy guys (and maybe some women, as I'm not sure who all is going to the little afternoon meet up of sorts [which, no, I was not asked to bake for]) with baked goods galore tomorrow. But I also know, logically, that they would have been just as happy with a brownie each.
Of course, I've been baking and dipping things in chocolate while writing this post, and now it's 12.40 am. So, at least I should be done by 1. Possibly sooner if I wrap this up and go get the dishes done.
Riddle me this, dear readers: Why do I keep trying so hard when I already know these people like me?