Butterfingers

I don't wreck stuff, don't cause much damage at home, and it's been ages since I broke more than a glass or so in the kitchen. Except for this week.

On Tuesday I took a full bottle of milk out of the fridge. It was still damp from the snow that had fallen on it during the night, so it slipped straight from my hands onto the floor. Ugh. One pint of milk mixed with tiny shards of broken glass: just what I needed to clear up before breakfast. I hope the stuff that ran under the work-units won't smell too much.

Then today I took a pyrex dish out of the microwave, half-full of venison stew and cous-cous. Then I dropped it, smashing it to pieces. That wasn't fun to clear up, either.

My biorhythms must be at a low phase, or I'm just getting old & clumsy.

:o/