It wasn’t a great week.

I started to write two blog posts, only to realize I didn’t have the right pictures.

Every time I’m in San Francisco, I miss Boston a little bit more.

Work had its ups and downs. More downs than ups.

My building’s laundry machine just stopped working. After I lost one quarter under the machine. And 3 more dollars-worth of quarters trying to get it to work.

I miss my damn dog.

And when I decided to try out a local bakery because I had seen three different tv show episodes that prominently featured a large, amazing-looking cake swathed in that buttercream I love so much…

That failed too. Note to fellow North Berkeley residents – unless you prefer your buttercream frosting to taste like they took a stick of unsalted I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter and spread that over some overly-sweet cornbread, don’t go here for your cake needs. Just don’t.

The world didn’t end. I got nothing on the starving children in Africa. Just one of those weeks where everything that could go wrong and/or rub me the wrong way, did. And I can see quite clearly that I’m headed for a “why am I even here” breakdown in the very near future. [Read: Mom, keep your phone handy.]

I’d really like to say something grandiose or at least articulate about how “this too shall pass.”

It’s not in me today.

On the plus side, I got my hair cut. I discovered a new flavor of kombucha to try. I got a pretty new dress. I made friends with the mailman. I have a crap ton of fresh basil in the fridge. And I started reading a new cookbook I hope to discuss here soon.

Feeling angsty/lackluster/self-indulgent this week? Do share.