Monday, November 21, 2011
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
The Cake.
The room is silent, a single cough echos along the walls to where I stand.
I look at the papers in my hands, nervous as a wreck.
"Hello everyone, my name is April and I'm a Perfectionist"
In front of me I have scrawled notes in point form.
1. I took a whole day off work to create a cake
2. People point it out to me that I should be happy with what I've created
3. It always tastes good in the end
4. I cried because the cake didn't look how I wanted it to.
