Hi, people. It’s 5:30 a.m. and I’m wide awake for no apparent reason. I got up about 40 minutes ago for a middle-of-the-night wee-wee and decided I was having way too much fun to go back to bed. Actually, I think my blood sugar might be low, but since I’m still conscious and typing let’s all try not to panic.
I would like to report that my finger doesn’t hurt. This is good news indeed, because I almost sliced it in half in the kitchen last night trying open a can of Libby’s corned beef. In case you have no experience with cheap canned meat, Libby’s corned beef is a bizarre, decades-old product in a weird little trapezoid can that you open with a key, just like sardines from the 1950s. During last night’s adventure the key snapped off so I did my best impression of King Kong and tried to rip the can apart with my bare hands. This was wrong on so many levels, but primarily because I practically BLED TO DEATH in the kitchen sink.
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