For me, that obviously happens with macarons.
I have four kinds of shells laying out. Almond, Vanilla, Blueberry Lavender, and Chocolate Bacon (Yaaaaaaas, lawd, I did it. I put bacon crumbles on a macaron shell). Tomorrow they'll get iced: Almond Buttercream, Vanilla Buttercream, Lavender Lemon Buttercream, and Chocolate Coca Cola Buttercream (because why the heck not, at this point, go hard or go home, amirite‽).
The first two recipes I pretty much have down pat. Actually, scratch that, I DO have them down pat. I only get the cookbook out so I remember my measurements. The second two I pretty much have invented as I've gone along. Scary? Sure. Exciting? You bet. Especially when the smells from the oven are sinfully delicious and the colors are gorgeous.
I have my shells under Saran Wrap (well, the bacon ones; the other ones are okay until tomorrow morning), as well as the already soft butter for all the buttercreams. Everything's premeasured (that can be) and set aside. Heavy cream is in the fridge, ready for use.
Now I'm in my bed with my heating pad on my back. Thankfully I had the smarts to do a lot of the folding and whatnot sitting down, but leaning over to pipe them out still made my back whiny. I am pleased. Quite pleased, actually. Except for the fact that the outside piece to my coupler has gone rogue, baking went splendidly. So I now have to get up in the morning and run by the craft supply store for a new one. Worse things have happened, right?
I have made one change to the Almond macarons: I add a slice of almond to the top! That way people can easily tell the difference between it and the Vanilla.
I saw a video recently where someone was saying how getting in the kitchen and baking is their form of self care. I need to remember this form more often. :)