Burn.

I wanted to blog about this last night, but after finding Danny zoned out and Miley chewing on my charger..I had other things in mind. Like, how much I hate Call of Duty.

Yours truly is apparently accident prone, a huge dummy, and a fatty. Yes, a fatty.

I was so excited for dinner last night that I grabbed the hot oven rack with my bare hand. UGH. Obviously not on purpose. I had to stir the food, so I slipped the oven mitt off. I don't know what I was thinking but when it was time to slide the rack back into the oven...I did it with the wrong hand. 

I ate dinner with one hand..while the other was nursing an ice cold bottle of beer. It served two purposes..icing down my fingers and quenching my thirst!

Here's the damage.

Debbie and Donnie Downer

The past few weeks have been tough. Not between me and Danny, I think we are as perfect as ever. But with my over-thinking and his clearance problems, we've both been awful whiny lately.

I feel so helpless when he's having a bad day. With my lack of driving and North Carolina having horrible public transportation, it's impossible for me to just run to him and try to cheer him up. His classmates got their wings today. But because [[in my opinion]] someone isn't doing their job they haven't bothered to do anything about Danny's clearance. I can just picture the letter I helped him write over two months ago sitting on someones desk while they are kicked back relaxing {I also picture this person eating a Hostess cupcake for some reason..} So, while his friends are moving on, Danny is stuck...waiting.

The day concluded with me burning my finger. On a toaster oven. Apparently the little hair I have on my knuckles sizzled off to the point it smelled like burning hair and skin. Here's my sad face and the damage.

It doesn't look like much. But it hurt like a bitch!