Easter went smoothly, with baskets and candy and plastic eggs lost forever in hiding spots around the house. I sent a delivery of prime rib and cheesecake to my college kid, made a big meal with three desserts, fed the family, took pictures of my cousins (I have been the only person to take pictures of them for their entire lives, so they lined up expectantly when I picked up the camera), and then dropped like a rock the minute everyone went home. There are no pictures of me, because I am also the only person to take pictures of my own self, and I forgot because I was too distressed by the flan cake, which was fully cooked but sagged just enough in the center to look like a puckered butthole. Happy Easter.
At work, my coworker was gone, we had a college student starting her first day, and we were rolling out the new RFID circulation/security system, so I was training and trouble-shooting while also trying to process a big pile of new books. It made the day go very fast. "Don't worry," I told our new part-timer after a weird guy started barking at the water fountain, "We only have to call the police once or twice a year." Three hours later someone started screaming violently behind the library and then played dead on the ground when we came to investigate, so the police were called. Sorry, new person.
Ah well. Things happen. I bet your butthole flan cake was delicious and it's rather charming in a way.
ReplyDeleteThe new person at work has had her trial by fire, or well, not fire, thank goodness.