Assume Nothing

I was on Mindless Waste of Hours Towards Some Meaningless Goalbook last night when an epiphany materialized … mind you I did not have an epiphany, it more like materialize as in words written in the sky in front on me… okay not the sky perhaps on my ceiling. This (Mindless Waste of Hours Towards Some Meaningless Goalbook) really is something I am not sure I want to be a member of… Oh, I like playing Scrabble® and tending my pretend farm because six Scrabble® games are not enough to juggle. There is also the ability to make smart-ass comments then delete them after someone has called me out. Yes, I actually find some slight amusement in doing the latter. However, besides Scrabble® and occasional pictures and links, I find that (Mindless Waste of Hours Towards Some Meaningless Goalbook) a waste of my time. So if I disappear I have found somewhere else to play Scrabble® and talked my opponents into joining me there.

I need more food and some sanity…that was the only segue I could come up with, hell it is after midnight, my brain is not …

There has been cooking happening in my home, and I am the one doing it. It has been years since I cooked meal so reacquainting myself with the kitchen has been a little hazardous. The first thing I had to do was reclaim the kitchen and organize it to my liking. Then I had to inform my eldest that things stay and go back where I put them if he wants food. The food statement was all I really needed to make, since he cannot drive. There is logic to that sentence if you think it all the way out…

On Saturday, my youngest came over and while cooking sour cream pound cake muffins I grabbed the corner of the pan, and forgot to let go. All I can say is ice and an Aloe Vera plant saved me from tears. It was a nasty burn with the burning flesh smell and all.

Last night I was chopping onions with some of the dullest knifes in history when I took off the tip of my finger. Now I do not have long nails, in fact it looks as though I am a nail biter however, truth be told, I am a compulsive filer. Nevertheless, I somehow managed to cut off the tip of the nail and alter my fingerprints since the cut was on the same hand as the burn. Damn I could have used these altered fingerprints if I had gone into another career choice… spy… I mean working for the State Department.

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