When Life Gives You Lemons: Gingerbread Cupcakes with Lemony Frosting

I was going to post another soup recipe today, but I had such the day from hell that I couldn't possibly think about celeriac and cauliflower.

This is how it went:

4:00 a.m.: sudden powerful leg cramp in my right leg, going up the length of my thigh.  Thank you, pregnancy.  (But I guess I shouldn't be complaining, right?)

4:30 a.m.: continued tossing and turning, unable to get pregnant self comfortable, even without considering leg cramp.

5:00 a.m.: heart pounding.  Can't get back to sleep.  Consider going for a run, but decide against it, since husband has to be out of the house early this morning, and I have to take child to school (adding an extra half hour to my commute), and it would mean risking not being back in time to get child ready AND take shower.  Watch minutes tick by, one by one.

5:50 a.m.: finally get out of bed, fetch child, make lunch and snack, make breakfast, go shower.

7:10 a.m.: out the door with child, note that it's raining, so a run at work is also unlikely.
(interlude: traffic on highway, hooray for Mondays and trucks.)

8:25 a.m.: arrive at work, decide to go for a run anyway, despite a late morning meeting with new boss.  Take usual route, and realize that I need to find a bathroom half way in.  Luckily, know all port-a-potty stops on all run routes.  Stop at the next port-a-potty, do business, discover: no.friggin.toilet.paper.  Goodbye, bandana.  Mentally note that this had better not be an indication of how the rest of my day will go.

9:15 a.m.: try to bathe in the ladies' room at work, feeling completely disgusting.  Decide to go without underwear today because of the whole no-toilet-paper ordeal; stow underwear with sweaty running clothes.

11:00 a.m.: boss-in-waiting (New Boss) arrives for meeting we had scheduled over a month ago, with no follow up questions about his responsibilities in the spring (he will "figure it out," he says, and I realize that he is going to get someone else to do this work for him, and that I will have to train this other person), but announcement that he will be attending a meeting I'd previously scheduled with Boss' Boss.  Not good.

2:00 p.m.: meeting with Boss' Boss and New Boss.  Informed that they will be hiring a faculty director to work in my program alongside me, because they are concerned about "faculty involvement" (never mind that I correspond with close to 100 faculty members currently, on a regular basis, and both seek and implement feedback).  Informed that New Boss will be using my office while I'm gone, and that a student will be using the old (currently unoccupied) faculty director's office, meaning that a recent graduate with no experience will have a private space, while my program coordinator/assistant has no space of her own and is treated like a receptionist/secretary.  Know that this will be a slap in the face to said program coordinator/assistant, and that I will have to break this news to her.  Then informed, by Boss' Boss (who has never been anything but supportive of me), in front of New Boss, that we need to discuss my "attitude" towards faculty members, whom someone said I think are lazy.  Here is where I lose it: never, in my 12 years of working at this university, of building this program from the ground up, of recruiting a few hundred faculty members to work with me, of earning the respect of faculty members with whom I now work as colleagues, have I been accused of having an attitude problem, and NOW?  Break into tears, in front of New Boss and Boss' Boss.  Epic fail.

3:00 p.m.: leave meeting, feeling like I have been slapped in the face, mentally composing letter of resignation.  Wonder if any of this would have happened if I hadn't been pregnant, realize that the answer is "probably not."  Feel completely dumbfounded.

4:00 p.m.: leave the office to begin the hour and a half drive home so that I can pick up child on time.  Try to compose myself so that I don't get myself or child killed on the way home.  Apologize to Bean for suggesting that she has a role in this mess.  Bean kicks back, agrees that we need to go to yoga teacher training together.

9:00 p.m.: spill seltzer all over myself while writing this blog entry.

OK, I get it.  I should not have gotten up this morning.  So much for the bright side of life.

I'm really hoping that this week gets better.  Luckily, on Friday I'm getting together with some other women from a working moms group I co-founded over two and a half years ago, for a dessert recipe swap.  I think I'm going to make these cupcakes again, which I made for my class last week.  All I need to do is make it through four more days at the office.  I can do that, right?  Boy, I hope so.

Gingerbread Cupcakes

1  1/4 c. flour
1 t. baking powder
1/2 t. baking soda
3 t. ginger
1 t. cinnamon
1/4 t. cloves
1/4 t. salt
1/2 c. canola oil
1/3 c. molasses
1/2 c. maple syrup
1/4 c. soy milk
2 T. soy yogurt
1 1/2 t. lemon zest
1/4 cup chopped crystallized ginger

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees, line the tins, and break out two medium bowls.  In the first, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, ginger, cinnamon, cloves and salt.  In the second, whisk together the oil, molasses, maple syrup, soy milk, yogurt and lemon zest.  Mix in the dry ingredients in two batches.  Then, fold in the chopped crystallized ginger, pour into the tins, and bake for 18-22 minutes.

Lemony Frosting

1/4 c. shortening
1/4 c. margarine
3 t. lemon zest
1 t. vanilla extract
2 c. powdered sugar

Cream together the shortening and margarine, and add in the powdered sugar in half-cup batches.  After each batch of sugar is mixed in , add a splash of lemon juice.  After 2 cups have been added, beat in the vanilla and lemon zest.  Add powdered sugar to get the right texture, and frost the cupcakes.  The lemon goes beautifully with the ginger; you could also do a lemon cream cheese (vegan or not) frosting, which I imagine would also be a good complement.