There is nothing sweeter than a well-planned scheme coming to fruition. Nothing perhaps, except brownies made with a whole cup of sugar.
When I want to exact revenge but have no means of doing so, I turn to baking. The anger just wells up in me and produces baked goods. So this afternoon when I was angered by something that I will not mention, I spoke to my Mum on the phone, teared a little, bitched a lot, then hung up with a little resolve. Baking time.
Alas, the pantry only held one packet mix of blueberry muffins. At least they’re 97% fat free. And very tasty, if I do say so myself. But that wasn’t enough. I recalled the incredible brownies I made in London, but after realising I wrote the recipe that is in a book inside a box on a ship somewhere; I trawled the internet for the recipe with no luck. I settled for another, and got back into mixing up a heart attack in a bowl. Not tooo much butter, but it does have half a cup of sugar. Ridiculous. The results were pleasing on all accounts though.
I’m not sure what it is that compells me to bake when I’m at a loss in life. I used to bake all the time during year 12; it was my stress relief. I’d decide to make biscuits or cakes while in London for no good reason, and wouldn’t stop until I’d found a supermarket with all the ingredients needed to carry out my master plan.
Maybe it’s because I know I am capable of creating muffins or biscuits or brownies, and I know what the result will be. It’s not a hazy, blurry, undecipherable problem hanging about your head and making you feel powerless. On the contrary, you gather the ingredients, put them together and know exactly what will happen. You know how to fix it if it goes wrong; how to follow every step in order to get the desired results. If only life was like that.
It seems I’m not only into baking when I’m angry. I become generally efficient. I once got so mad that someone hadn’t contacted me one evening that I tidied and packed up half my college room in London in less than an hour. They spoke to me later, to apologise and inform me that their phone had broken the night before. At least I got some things done.
I suppose certain people feel powerless and cower back into their corner when something difficult comes along, but I like to feel in control too much to let that happen. Yes, things do get to me (today for instance) and they set me back, but what I hate more than anything is feeling held back by obstacles that aren’t my making. Sure I am broke, and got a parking ticket yesterday, but I parked in a permit zone, so it’s clearly my fault. I’ll just pay it and it will be over and done with. At least I did it myself, so I am the one who can fix it.
Feeling powerless is just… the worst. And when you feel the worst, you need a little glucose and a few thousand kilojoules to brighten your day. Unless you’re diabetic. Then it would probably make your day worse.
So make me angry and I’ll tidy, study, organise; and maybe even bake some banana bread. But you’re definitely not getting any.