On this particular Monday night, I’m perched on my bed for my typical nightly routine. Of course, the best of journalistic self-help offerings would tell you that the bed is for sleeping and other horizontal delights, but this is also my workspace. I’m here until the wee hours when my eyeballs sear in pain and my head starts to ache, or when I fall back on my pillows and come to when the sun peeks through the window just hours later.
I’ve had many breaking points lately. A rush of cakes poured in and with a sudden jolt of my ET in tact, I’ve thrown frosting bags, spreaders and pans left and right trying to get a cake PERFECT without shaking or knocking the damn thing off the table. Fortunately, I’ve managed to let cakes mosey out of the shop slightly unscathed. The anxiety and worries are leading me to make other decisions though. I’m sure an easy answer would be to hire a pastry chef to lessen the burden, but it’s not in the cards financially just yet.
I’ve decided to pay a visit to the most depressing spot in the area for inspiration (ironic, yes?): the mall. Save for getting lost in Anthropologie’s eclectically decorated nooks and crannies, and toying with new skincare products at Sephora, I did have an inspirational snap. Perhaps being in the midst of a consumer hub brings out better ideas.
And yes, ideas I cannot wait to put into fruition. I think they will kickass.
At least I think that. Since I do think that, I should put everything into motion to see the (possible) potential.