Sharing one's cake prevents bad dreams

Nightmare. New job. My birthday.

A day of feeling out of my depth, utterly useless. Feeling like a fraud, fear-frozen vocal chords. I have no idea where to start.

Lots of big things have happened on my previous birthdays. But I'm not sure I should have got up this morning. In fact I know I wish I hadn't.

But I collected a well-wrapped parcel on the way to work. It's been at the sorting office for days. Picked it up, and promptly dropped it off my bike. Unwrapped, miraculously intact and still delicious: Kat-friendly apple and sultana cake with walnut oil. Carefully labelled. I share it with my colleagues. I have to speak to tell them to eat it. Which is a start of sorts.

This is a picture of the last piece I rescued and wrapped again to take home to my mum's.

I'm glad the day is over.

Hope the rest of the year is easier.