Welp, pretty sure I have no remaining fingerprints on my left hand, which will come in handy if Donald slithers back in and I have to go on the lam when his secret police come to arrest me. Because yes I made the dog a hamburger and then I smoked a joint which was too big and too strong for just one person and then I somehow decided it was okay to reach into the oven without a potholder and literally stuck my entire left hand on the red hot broiler thingee. Yes I screamed and immediately stuck my hand under water and yes I have blisters. And here I thought I was simply going to accidentally cut myself and bleed to death this week while my husband’s away thanks to being on blood thinners that make me have to always make sure I’m near bandaids. Oh my god, I hemorrhage from a paper cut.
Oh well. I’m too wounded to even heat up dinner, I’m gonna order a vodka pizza. I’m not even lying, it’s from a place in the hood and it’s most excellent. Vodka pizza. When you want to eat your drink.
Four more days til Gary comes home.
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