Where is the tart, you say?
Well there isn't a tart, because I fucking dropped it. Yes, I. fucking. dropped. it. So there you go, the 3 hours of my life I will never get back. I was going to move it into a container and put it in the fridge, but apparently God and gravity have another plan for it, which is to slip from my hand and serenely fall to the floor. And I screamed, not because of the fall, but because the hot filling dropped onto my feet and now my feet are red.
For what it's worth, I tried some of it (the one that didn't touch the floor of course), and it tasted awesome. And no, I will NOT grieve over this stupid shit because in matter of hours I will make another one. Fuckyeah.
Oh look, it's almost 4 in the morning. And I'm covered with lemon filling. Isn't it just great?
P. S. : when life gives you lemon, make a lemon tart and do NOT drop it.
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