It's not for me.  It never is.  There's only one pie in the world I will eat, and this is not it.

I had a wry smile at something I read this morning.  I don't know if I should feel elated by the fact that I smiled rather than smashed the sofa in half, or whether I should feel guilty about the fact that I smiled when someone else is clearly suffering the same game play I had to endure.  I didn't smile at their suffering.  I smiled at the self-tightened hangman's noose of the perpetrator.  Giving away some of the game.  Proving that it is indeed a game.  Perhaps I need to look at this more akin to a game of chess, rather than outright war.

I learnt a fair bit of the game early on.  But seeing it in writing makes it all seem so... so... sick.  Sinister.  Despicable.  Inhuman.  But ultimately reassuring.  I clearly accidentally attracted a monster similar to my mother.  And I am stronger than both.  I know this.  Now I have to prove it.

The pie is looking like a bit of a disaster.  At least I don't have to eat it!  It was the pastry that was the problem.  I've never used suet before.  I had never made pastry until a few weeks ago.  Primarily because I don't eat it... there's logic to it!  But today is the first go at using suet and there was nothing enjoyable about it.  Sticky and tricky.  It might have been less stressful if I wasn't in such a rush.  Anyway, it's in the oven, and I'm not looking until I hear the timer beep.  Well, I might, but I'll try not to.  Looking will likely result in a temper tantrum, which whilst would serve to improve the moods of those around me, would do nothing for my new false calm that I am so actively trying to emanate!

I now have some very muddy carrots to scrub, so that will be all from me for now.