A play on words with gratification of the baked kind

So it appears that in times of crisis I do the following:

-Eat biscuits that I bought to present as a gift to someone (who is not me).
-Walk around in circles making puns TO MYSELF. ALONE.
-Dust off my deserted and poorly-named blog.

The crisis is as following:

OH MY GOD I'M MOVING IN WITH MY FRIEND BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO START WITH THE PACKING WHY DOESN'T THAT GUY AT FOLLOW UP ON THAT OFFER OF BEER THAT HE ONCE AWKWARDLY MADE WHEN I WAS OFF TO A DATE WITH SOMEONE ELSE WHO IS DREADFULLY BORING AND ONLY WEARS WHITE T-SHIRTS WHAT SHOULD I DO WITH MY LIFE WHERE ARE MY STOCKINGS WHY IS IT SO COLD WHAT SHOULD I CHOOSE FOR MY MA I MISS MELBOURNE WHERE AM I GOING TO STUDY WHERE AM I GOING TO TRAVEL TO NEXT. Etc.

As for the poorly-named blog....I didn't ever expect to have any commitment to it past Vietnam. My boyfriend at the time said it was a stupid name. It is, but well WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES KIDS AND NOW WE HAVE TO GRIN AND BEAR IT (at least two of those mistakes are acknowledged in this paragraph).

In any case: goodbye Ulica Zelazna (Iron Street). Your spiteful stove and vermin have been good to me.

Love,

Paulina