This is what’s wrong with me.
Cookies.
That’s what they were supposed to be, anyway. But I can’t even do that right. Can’t even make goddamn cookies come out right.
I want to kill myself. Over cookies how fucking stupid is that?
But it’s just so emblematic of my whole life. I fuck up the most basic things if someone isn’t there to do all the hard parts. I don’t even know what I did wrong, with my life or the cookies. I just know everything’s mess and it didn’t come out like it was supposed to and it’s irreparably ruined. I don’t have any more ingredients or any money to buy new ingredients, and it’s too late anyway because the party’s in an hour.
Just like my life: fucked up beyond repair, out of resources for starting over, and too damn late anyway.
I don’t know if I’m going to make it through this.