The Break (and Bake?) Point

There comes a point when a man becomes, for lack of a better word, desperate.

That point, for me, was today at 4:30pm while sitting in my favorite coffee shop absently picking at the last bits of the grilled cheese sandwich and salad I had ordered, my thesis materials spread out in front of me.  My laptop sat silently on the table, proudly showing its blank screen to the world.  I was beyond concentration.  I couldn't sit still anymore.  I just couldn't sit and go through these stupid books and articles any longer.

It was time for desperate measures.

I bolted up, throwing my things into my backpack and slinging it over my shoulder.  Tossing it into the backseat of the car, I drove directly to the nearest Safeway and proceeded to buy every single comfort food I laid eyes on, darting up and down the aisles like a crazed person, eyes bulging, snickering with quiet, maniacal glee.

$31 and twenty minutes later, I sit here at my desk, materials spread out in front of me again, a storm rolling in on the horizon outside, and a small plate with what must be a quarter pound of unbaked cookie dough.  And a spoon.   I'm going for it.

Like I said.  Desperate.