There is a cupcake in the kitchen with my name on it. Not literally. It does not have ‘Kandace’ written on it. Although I suppose I could fix that.
A cupcake store opened about 500 metres from my house on the weekend. I probably would have forgotten about it’s grand opening but a friend emailed me the flyer, and my housemate hand-delivered a copy to my couch on Saturday morning.
Everyone’s looking out for my cupcake interests.
I kind of like when the world is curated for me by my friends. It’s handy, saves me time. There are whole sections of the internet I don’t have to bother looking at because I know if anything relevant to me appears there three or four people will let me know. Also: cupcakes!
The only unfortunate element to all this cupcake delight is the fact that it put the final seal of my I Suck At Nutrition week.
(re-enactment from my slightly fuzzy recollections of Saturday night)
Me: Guess what I had for dinner tonight.
Mother Dearest: What?
Me: A cupcake! Guess what I had for dinner on Thursday?
Mother Dearest: (slightly more warily) What?
Me: Lemon meringue pie! Guess what I had for dinner on Wednesday?
Mother Dearest: (with resigned foreboding) …what?
Me: (lying) Er… not a mango smoothie?
Mother Dearest: You know that whole ice cream for dinner thing wasn’t meant to be pattern setting.
Me: (thoughtful) I think I’m actually eating worse now than I was when I was twenty.
Mother Dearest: Face palm.