I’m a stress baker.
You can all sympathize, right? I’m thinking specifically of my senior year of college, just before winter break, when I had one massive exam the next day. Let’s be clear–I was an English major. We didn’t do exams. We did papers. Write you 15 gorgeous pages on Joyce’s Ulysses? Sign me up. Multiple-choice questions, concept IDs, and timed short answer questions?! Not. So. Much.
So there, I was, trying to memorize a semester’s worth of political philosophy in one night, and what was I doing? Melting butter, measuring sugar, covering our apartment kitchen in flour, and adding an extra handful of chocolate chips.