Burnt.

I like to procrastinate. It’s a bad habit. I work so much better under pressure, I need tight deadlines. I spent many nights (all night) throughout university at the Weldon Library, the Spoke or the University Community Centre (UCC) with my Tim Hortons coffee. Often all three, in one night. My house was never cleaner, and I traveled throughout the city delivering homemade cookies to the friends I had collected from Saugeen, home, anywhere really.

I was the Cookie Fairy. And I made tasty, appreciated treats for stressed out friends during exams, essays, the busiest times of the year. Upon moving farther from these friends, I began to mail cookies. I love getting mail, and I’m pretty sure that cookie-mail sounds like the most delicious mail ever. The trick is to not tell people they’re coming. I’ve gotten many “you totally made my day!” messages, and that totally makes my day in return.

All of this cookie fairy joy may soon end.

I have a new arch nemesis.

The boy’s oven.

Oh boy, does that thing hate me. Last night, I happily mixed up the batter, prepared everything, all was perfect. It was on par to be a very enjoyable batch. And then it all went horribly, horribly wrong.

The boy’s oven is not into being the temperature you set it at. That’s cool. The previous owners set a thermometer in the oven itself so you could gauge real temperature versus the temperature you actually set it at. I had made sure that the oven was at the real temperature that I wanted. And it was.

And then it wasn’t.

It increased itself by 50 degrees (Fahrenheit) all on its own. After I freaked out and removed the cookies, which weren’t cooked to completion but kind of smelled like burning, it dropped 75 degrees. There was just no way that I could figure it out. The temperature fluctuated all over the place.

The second batch turned out a little better than the first, but I have not burned cookies in a long, long time. It upsets me. The boy informs me they’re fine. But as I told him, if I had made them at home and they turned out like that… I would have send them to the garbage.

Oven 1 = Leanne 0

Cooking pie, lasagna and turkey this weekend might be interesting.