Follow the recipe, or go long?

I am really not a baker. A griller, yes! But a baker, meh, not so much. There's just too many ingredients and measuring and all that involved in the whole baking thing. I do know enough to follow a simple recipe in most things. More often than not, I "make it up as I go along" and there are times when it turns out pretty darn great if I do say so myself...But we all know there is no recipe for much of anything in life.

So what happens when what you pull out of the oven doesn't resemble what you thought you were making? I'll tell you what, it sucks really bad. In the kitchen, you can toss out what you attempted and start over again. In life, well...it's not quite as simple, or easy, and way more messy than just cleaning things up in the sink. And when it comes to relationships, I feel as though I've either been cooking from the wrong recipes, or using the wrong ingredients (and definitely both in one instance for sure.) I know part of the problem in these Betty Crocker debacles is lack of cooking experience. And we can all agree that when you're good at something you either have the skills, or the experience. And sometimes, even when you have some skills, it still comes out like crap. Listen people, my playing field is far smaller than the majority, and when you consider I didn't really even figure out what my position was on the team until I was in my 20's, game time had already run out a good part of the first half -4th inning- 3rd quarter... I realize that part of my problem is I believe in the Hail Mary - love it in fact.

It's dramatic and exciting, full of hope and full of disaster. I'm big on taking chances like that. My wannabe-Italian heart adores long shots and underdogs. Maybe it's because I can associate with both. But if your receiver isn't a sure thing, or your quarterback has a bum arm, a touchdown there will not be. No matter how many times you throw the ball. And so I feel I'm faced with having to either punt, or whip up some brownies. And for now, I guess I'm choosing the brownies. I assume that all this means I should spend more time baking, as far as relationships go. Making sure all the ingredients are there, things are separated and sifted, the oven is preheated, the pan is greased and the timer is set. I'd rather just throw a steak on the fire and sear it to perfection in about 8 minutes. But clearly, love is about baking, and not about how hot the coals are. In the meantime, my brownies may end up not tasting that great, but really what does it matter when I'm only cooking for one? Besides, I can always bring them to work.