Last week I fucking tripped over my own feet while walking up the stairs at work. Full out splat pavement contact. Pisser. I bashed up my knee and fucked up the palms of my hands. Nice. Good to know that I don't need actual obstacles when it comes to making a total ass out of myself, just my own feet. Or air.

Tonight I was pulling the asparagus from the oven with one of those silicone hot pads. Oh, and the hot pad had a fucking hole in it so you could hang it from a hook. Except me, I put the pad of my thumb right there and proceed to burn the fuck out my thumb. Can I say FUCK again? Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Oh, and I accidentally grabbed the wrong t-shirt this morning for my post-work gym session. That shirt? It was the one I'd already worn once to the gym already so it was a tiny bit funky (but not overly so). I feel embarrassed that I couldn't even grab the right shirt this morning.

If any of you make the red velvet cupcakes please make sure you let me know how they came out.




  • At May 08, 2008 4:58 PM, Anonymous Jemima said…


    Rinse, lather, repeat. You'll feel better, I promise. A friend once pasted that on the front of her computer so whenever her editor would come by, she could just read and feel at peace.

    And re, the falling, I hear you. Get some A&D ointment. I swear it works.

  • At May 12, 2008 11:12 AM, Blogger orangek8 said…

    Dude, I feel your pain on the falling over your own feet dealio.

    The scabs on my knee are FINALLY healed up for the most part. OUCH!


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