Now I remember why I am not a baker.
I made my bread (you know, the Amish friendship kind), but decided to throw everyone a curve and do cinnamon rolls. Normally I go to our Czech bakery for these. Let's just say after this weekend, I will continue to pay for cinnamon rolls.
The recipe I got off the internet had me trying to knead an oatmeal-like batter, so I added more flour because that what my Amish alter-ego told me to do. And when I say "more" flour, I am really saying like 2-384 more cups.
So the cinnamon rolls were breathtaking. And by breathtaking I actually mean you couldn't breathe in when you tasted them or you would ingest into your lungs 386 cups of flour. And God knows that is never a good thing.
So I am tossing in the towel as a baker. I will now focus on being a butcher or a candlestick maker. I have my first aide kit and fire extinguisher handy.