You know it’s that time of the month when you eat two cookies before 9 am by justifying them as the same thing as muffins, only smaller and harder, then, because you feel guilty about eating two cookies before 9 am, you skip lunch.
You eat two more cookies anyway because you’re hungry because you skipped lunch, then allow yourself half a cookie as an afternoon snack because you’re on the “half-diet” on which you only eat half of whatever is in front of you, but you eat the other half anyway because really, who eats half a cookie?!
Then, because your body can now no longer function at any level below sugar shock (!!!), you end the day by shoveling the entire second layer of cookies under the foil in the Tupperware that you brought to the office in the first place expressly because you had to get the cookies out of your house lest you eat them all because if they are there, in your house, just sitting there, in your house, you will eat them, but you. Don’t. Want. To eat. Them.
So genius you, you took them to the office!
Gee, that strategy totally worked out well.
And guess what time of the month it is.
It is time to pay the bills.
It is time to pay rent, pay renter’s insurance, pay auto insurance, pay health insurance, pay insurance insurance. It is time to pay credit card balances, pay water bills, electric bills, gas bills, cable bills (ok, I don’t have cable TV because the Food Network done hurt mine feelings, but apparently, this Internet thing isn’t as free as we thought, now is it?!?!), cell phone bills, medical bills (wait, didn’t I just pay health insurance?), and bills for products and services that I am sure I never ordered but my name appears in the glassine window so I have to pay them.
Paying bills gives me stress. It’s not the act of paying bills itself, because really, I feel a strange sense of accomplishment when I have a neat little stack of envelopes in ascending order of size that are perfectly address-labeled and perfectly stamped alongside a corresponding rainbow stack of actual bills that have been stamped in red stamppad ink “Paid” with a date and check number. It’s that paying bills is a painful reminder that I don’t have a job.
Not having a job gives me stress, and when I stress, I eat Every. Thing. In sight. (**See footnote) Unfortunately, my stress management behavior also includes Mental Bakedown, and more unfortunately, I can’t use the Get-Baked-Goods-Out-of-the-House Strategy that is doomed to fail anyway because I don’t have an office to which to excommunicate the sinful cookies because I don’t have a job. So not only am I stressed because I am once again reminded that I don’t have a job, but now I’m fat because I’ve eaten seventeen cookies in two hours and having fat gives me more stress than not having a job.
It’s quite the convoluted vicious cycle.
And if you think Chewy Coconut Cookie Crisps are bad, wait until that once-in-a-long-time total eclipse of that time of the month with that hormonal time of the month.
Chewy Coconut Cookie Crisps
Baking is supposed to be an exercise in stress-relief, so preheat your iPod to the most relaxing music you have. I usually go with Eminem.
Chewy Coconut Crisps Ingredients:
1 cup all-purpose flour
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon baking powder
pinch of salt
½ cup (1 stick) softened butter
½ cup granulated sugar
½ cup brown sugar
1 large egg
1 teaspoon vanilla
1½ cup flaked (or shredded, whatever) coconut
Chewy Coconut Cookie Crisps Directions:
Preheat oven to 350.
In a large bowl, sift together 1 c. all-purpose flour, ½ tsp. baking soda, ½ tsp. baking powder, and a pinch of salt.
In a separate bowl, cream together ½ c. softened butter (that’s 1 stick of butter for the measurementally challenged) and ½ c. each of granulated and brown sugars. Beat in 1 large egg and 1 tsp. vanilla.
Mix flour mixture into butter/sugar mixture, then mix in 1½ c. flaked coconut.
Drop by teaspoonfuls onto an ungreased cookie sheet (there’s enough butter in the dough) and bake for 8-10 minutes until cookies are light brown and edges are toasted.
Cool on racks, wrap them up, and give those b**ches away.
** I don’t actually mind being jobless, but given that I am technically full-time jobless in a market in which jobs are hard to come by for the majority of the jobless population, I feel sort of assholish to not feel the same pain.