She's coming to town tomorrow, which means one of two things: 1) I will suddenly give in to the urge to paint a room/start some other ridiculously messy project; or 2) go into a baking frenzy. It's some sort of defense mechanism. Last time she was here, I did both.
I am sure there's some perfectly rational explanation in an abnormal psych textbook somewhere. In the meantime, the Pane Toscana has been mixed and is in its preliminary 18-hour rise phase.
We will eat well this weekend, at any rate.