Made cakes last night. Mixer blew up. I cried.
Mood.Mood.Mood.
Went out for Steve Loafs birthday dinner the boy said when I drink wine I am mean to him. FICTION.
Mood.Mood.Mood.Mood.
Brought the cakes to work. They looked like I had been ran over whilst holding them when I got to work to give them to Emma. I cried. I am very disappointed with myself. I'm never carrying cakes on the bus again. The bus driver was a shit and didnt wait til I sat down to move off and it all went wrong from there.
Mood.Mood.Mood.Mood.Mood.
Pictures of cakes later/tomorrow. Pictures of BEFORE bus tragedy. Not after.
Emma said they still looked amazing. I am not sure. Not sure at all.
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