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Compliments for a Clown

Today a woman I work with came by my desk to give me her children's review of the cookies I made for everyone in my group pre-Xmas. "They LOVED them! They asked if you would make for them!"

Meanwhile I'm thinking: they were Tollhouse, from a frozen cookie log. Do you think I have time to make 8 dozen cookies from scratch, or even a mix? How long do I let her rave on? Do I tell her they were Tollhouse or do I just bask in the glory of perhaps the first time I've ever been complimented on my cooking?

Oh, let the basking commence! I think I still have a glow around my head.

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    Everything has changed. Nothing has changed. I don't want to go through this again. I can't live without it. I'm sure I can handle it. I couldn't imagine it any other way.
    And if none of this makes sense... well, you obviously aren't a Red Sox fan.
      - Bill Simmons

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