Never would I have imagined that my wildest holiday baking dreams would be bulldozed by an influx of work tasks all due within two weeks' time. The countless cookies, cakes, and festive baked goods I had envisioned materializing in my kitchen were but just pigments of my imagination. I entered into the office on at least four consecutive instances without bearing treats.
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But my coworkers had reacted to my presence with relentless positivity. On my last in-office day, one had even presented me with a slice of homemade Cranberry Cake. Meanwhile, another offered a Chocolate Crinkle and Pecan Shortbread round constructed by his fiancée.
I appreciated these gestures immensely, for my excess of brownies and loaves had not been distributed expecting anything in return. Adopting the role of a recipient was utterly foreign to me. Both items were regarded with gratitude, then subject to the same critique as I'd be imposing on my own creations.
I appreciated these gestures immensely, for my excess of brownies and loaves had not been distributed expecting anything in return. Adopting the role of a recipient was utterly foreign to me. Both items were regarded with gratitude, then subject to the same critique as I'd be imposing on my own creations.
Lunchtime saw exploration of the College Park district. Dry air, ruthless winds, and snow-turned-slush signified the grueling arrival of winter.
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Weaving through the 777 Bay building towards Yonge Street enabled a comprehensive view of the installations at the concourse and ground levels.
The trip had been undertaken to locate a budget bench scraper, though ultimately ended with unplanned Dollarama and IKEA purchases.
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Rounding off my final downtown trek of the year was a large Americano and White Chocolate Macadamia Nut Cookie from Cotti Coffee. The toasty beverage soothed my senses and delivered a mild caffeine buzz, just as their iced lattes had done.
Meanwhile, the cookie was cloying, far too thin, and not exactly palatable. At the very least, it was merely just seventy-nine cents.
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Let it be known that Bacardi Gold and Mulled Cider make for a scrumptious pairing.
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Choco-Mushrooms aren't bad either, though probably second to my childhood go-to of Apollo.
While I had anticipated to commence my days off with vigor, the world had other plans. Over the course of the first day, my condition would plummet from being able to vacuum, to extreme chills, then finally lying on Larry with a raging fever of 101.7 F.
My face burned, flushed with the complexion of a drunkard, yet my toes were frosty. As someone who naturally resists being stationary, plummeting down into the world of physically static virtual interactions (foam rolling excluded), was an utterly unfamiliar feeling.
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Congee Queen UberEats was requested in Priority format, for desperate times call for desperate measures.
By the next morning, my fever had subsided. Instead, I was met with an appalling croak of a voice. The fogginess in my head had cleared somewhat and slight appetite had returned. My ability to navigate around the house had been restored to some degree, even if coordination hadn't recovered completely.
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More congee and Tylenol would assist in suppressing the tremors, until my temperature rose to 99 F once again in the evening. At the very least, I had succeeded in assembling my belongings into the carrier at an acceptable pace, with minimal headache.
Oatmeal with raisins and 杏仁蜜棗茶 would be consumed the following morning in place of my standard cold brew and banana bread pairing.
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