Smells Like Home

At this very moment, my apartment smells like pot. The vents are covered and still it seeps in. I suppose it's better than the smell of chicken manure. Or decaying corpses.

Last night, my place smelled significantly more lovely. It smelled of happy and pudgy. Sugar is dangerous to those who live alone. I think I need to take up running. I say that every year. I think I almost mean it this time.

We had a potluck at work today. Almost all of us brought dessert. And I think I tried everything. At least once. So now I need to detox.

This was my contribution:

I make these every year over the holidays. One of my signature goodies. This batch was made with Hugs. And with all the M&M colors, as this wasn't a Christmas offering. And on round pretzels, not square. Like my mother, I don't actually follow recipes to a T.

I heard two girls in the kitchen talking about them:

"It makes me happy just to look at them."

And that made me happy.

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