different names for the same thing

ever since taking on l/oysels i’d felt alot. disappointment and shame when my cakes crap up, fatigue– so much fatigue–, insouciance during work, and alot of regret especially when the fatigue hits. my cakes are my pride and babies but i must say there are times when i want to throw myself on the floor and thrash around like a big brat. because i dont want to measure out flour anymore and i dont want to CUT THIS FRIGGIN’ CAKE INTO 10 SLICES. I CAN’T DO IT AND I AM RISKING MY SANITY

i wanted to write something about how much i am looking forward to my little french vacation in two weeks, but i guess i just cant get over the fact that between then and now sits 12 carrot cakes. which means another trip to phoonhuat to pick up more walnuts, cream cheese, boxes and liners. that, and 12 more times of cutting a crumbly cake into 10 slices. 12 more times of risking people being unhappy about my cakes. i am spoilt and i cannot take rejection

also, after france, would like to not go back to work and that toxic environment. i have that clone of a resignationletter sitting pretty on my green box but i dont think i will have the balls to hand it over tomorrow. i do not even think it will end up in my bag when i pack in the morning

on that note, i do hope that i will remember to bring the charger


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