Sometimes I believe I was placed here to make others feel better about their own lives.For instance, today.Well, it started early this week when I was thinking, “Amy, if you’re gonna make cookies, you need to get on it.” And I answered, “ehhh, I’ll do it Thursday night and that way I can deliver Friday.”So last night I broke out my recipe book and flipped to the back to my beloved peanut butter cookies. I don’t eat them, so they’re about the only truly selfless thing I do for others.I’m gathering ingredients. I had conveniently forgotten you have to bring the eggs and butter to room temperature. Dang it. No way to hasten that without breeding bacteria.I read on.Chill a minimum of three hours.Crap. Crap crap crap crap crap.By the time I got ingredients to room temp and everything mixed, it would be 7:00. Three hours puts me at 10:00, also known as Amy’s bedtime. But in a stroke of brilliance, I figure I can just take the batter to work and bake them there. No fuss, no muss.Well, I woke up at 5:11. Not on purpose. I just did. So I went ahead and got up and decided to bake the cookies.Hmm. That’s odd. Dough was still sticky and very pliable. I vividly remember in years past wishing…