ike I mentioned yesterday, I was already in the process of making a batch of cookies. I originally had plans to continue baking throughout the whole maintenance window, but due to a sudden stroke of amazing efficiency I was able to finish my work two hours early. So yes, I was able to work quickly all while baking cookies. And these were the results:

After seeing how many cookies this batch yielded, I decided that one batch was enough. The last thing I wanted was a huge pile up of cookies lying around the house, because, really, who else is going to end up eating the cookies? Exactly. In honour of the maintenance window, I nicknamed the batch my “failover cookies.” The name still amuses me.

Yes, I’m going to post a summary of the recipe, though not in this post. Maybe tomorrow? Instead I just wanted to touch on some interesting points that baking seems to bring up. Now, as I was making the cookies last night I had full intentions of bringing them in to work to share with my colleagues. Nice, right? It’s not the first time I’ve brought in baked goods. In the past I’ve brought in brownies and lemon squares, both of which were received really well. Today was no exception. Everyone gave my cookies rave reviews as far as I could tell. Everything was great, although, there was one thing that struck me as surprising. Someone I gave a cookie to asked me whether my wife or girlfriend made it.

Eh…? Well, that’s interesting. Yes, nothing was meant by it, but I’m fascinated by the question. Is it really that out of the ordinary for me, as a manly man, to be the one to have done the baking? What’s even more interesting for me is that this isn’t the first time someone’s asked me that. Sometime last November I brought in some stuff and someone asked me if my wife or girlfriend was sending me in with all of this food. Hah.

For anyone wondering, yes, I’m single.

I’m not even going to go into detail about analyzing all of this because the things at issue are pretty much obvious, aren’t they? Whatever. I get a kick out of surprising people with my talents.

You know, on a related note, I’ve noticed some other interesting trend in terms of assumptions people make about me. I’m assuming that the facial hair I was sporting a little while ago (I shaved two days ago) was making me look way older, but I didn’t think it was that drastic. Maybe it’s unrelated, but this one guy who’s only known me with facial hair seemed to make the assumption that I was married and had kids.

¿Que?

Sure, it’s not really that big a deal, but it’s an interesting jump to make. I don’t talk about having a spouse because, well, I don’t have one. I don’t say anything about my non-existent parenting skills. So, why make that assumption? Do I look old? Do I somehow carry myself in such a way that I’ve got this weird mature dignity thing going? This is something that I can’t figure out.

Anyway, enough pondering. The recipe will follow sometime in the next few days.