Some Wishes Are Easier

Actual email conversation:

To: Roommate
From: Me
Subject: ARG!!!

I should have checked the kitchen scales while we were at Target!!!

To: Me
From: Roommate
Subject: Re: ARG!!!

Target will still be there Wednesday.

To: Roommate
From: Me
Subject: Re: Re: ARG!!!

You don’t know. It might not.

I long for a kitchen scale. I'm not sure how much of the longing is apparent to Roommate, as I am the subtlest of creatures, but it is a deep and profound longing.

You see, dearest invisible friend, it would just make the baking thing so much easier. And better. No, really. See, ingredients like flour can get all squished together. If that happens, a cup of flour can vary enormously in mass. One cup measurement could be nine ounces of flour and another could be six. And if you think of the flour as being made up of flour molecules, and baking as being an exercise in chemical reaction, having way too many flour molecules in the mix could result in...

...well...

Ickiness.

I know. I hate it when I use that kind of language, too. The chemical jargon right there just threw you off, didn't it? Or maybe you just lapsed into a coma. Sorry. Take a minute. I'm here for you.

Better? Oh, good. Let's get back to me.

Oh, what? Like my inherent self-absorption is a shocker? Pfffft!

What??

What????

Fine. Be all judge-y. Just get me my kitchen scale first and I'll leave you alone to your judgement.

What?????