baking cookies

I have been baking and delivering cookies for the past 10 hours.
I gave cookies to a bar where I volunteer, to my boss and coworkers, to the immigration lawyer, sent a package home with a friend, delivered them to two friends houses, left a lot where I used the oven, and brought at least fifty home for my roommates.
Everyone was so happy when I gave them fresh baked cookies; they smiled and wondered why they got to have fresh baked cookies. And right after that I left, so that I did not have to hear, wow, your cookies are so good, thank you very much….
I love to cook, but I do not love to make cookies. Cookies are missing the creativity and the closeness to the fire of cooking….a pinch of turmeric, a pinch of cayenne, stir, add everything at the right moment. I don’t even like to eat cookies. Baking cookies must come from the grandmother in me, the caretaker who wants to do things for others, to make them smile. And I like doing things for people, which have no need to be returned, if there could be a thing such as that…..
I think that there is something about this whole project, which makes me feel really solitary, and really individual, maybe it is because each day I have a different experience, and I am the only one responsible for the creation of that reality.