How a Pudding Pack Kept Me From Sleeping

How it all began: Call me crazy as much as you like — I hate tearing into the Jell-o pudding packs. You know, the cardboard that’s glued together and houses six cups of pudding goodness and is also some of the dumbest packaging ever*. It’s part compulsiveness, part…more compulsiveness, but if I tear into them then suddenly there is no reason for the packaging to even be there.

Whatever, guys, you have your weird stuff too.

It just looks really good in the packaging - what can I say?

Another little factoid you should know: I had this enormous fear of knives when I was a kid, and I haven’t totally grown out of it, so as I was washing our serrated bread knife last night, bare handed, I had this brief moment of utter panic over the thought of slicing my entire arm off. It didn’t happen, by the way.

Anyhow, as I was prepping lunches last night before bed, I had a little wrestling match with the Jell-o pack. It happens sometimes — they stick three of those things inside the cardboard that’s glued together and then you can’t get the middle one out no matter how hard you try. By the way, I totally got it out. But the entire time I was fiddling around, I kept thinking, “Wow this is really hurting my fingers something fierce.” I turned to make the sandwiches and that’s when I saw the blood.


That’s an exaggeration, actually. But I did slice and dice my finger pretty well, I’m assuming on the plastic cups. And I got blood on Husband’s yogurt container (don’t worry — I wiped it off. Otherwise people would have thought he murdered me and then decided to follow it up with a blueberry yogurt. Or something.)

It's, like, trying to be my fingertip but it's not. Also, we have no fingertip bandages.

I mean, how did I even slice this part of my finger. Really.

Little did she know these two little cuts would set into action a series of unfortunate events.

A quote from my favorite movie: “I’ve written papers on ‘Little did he know.’ I’ve taught classes on ‘Little did he know.’ I once gave an entire seminar based upon ‘Little did he know.'” – Stranger than Fiction

The Low Point

I decided last night, after the whole Wal-dryl incident leading to an entire day of drowsy haze, to go to bed somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00, with Husband. This was a bad decision, as it always is, and I should have realized beforehand. But I had such high hopes of getting a full night’s rest. If I go to bed around 1:00 am, then I will fall into a REM sleep that challenges only coma patients. But if I go to bed at a regular hour, my body treats it like a nap. A nap.

And so, around 3:00 am, I woke up. There are, I believe, three factors additional that made this occur — first, my body wishing for a sleep aid (seriously, this is why I abstain from things like Benadryl. Immediate dependency.); second, my being unbearably hot under the covers but then unbearably cool outside of them (and not even sticking one leg out sufficed this time); third, my two bandages being wrapped around my ring finger so tightly it was throbbing. Upon waking up, I decided to remove them, thinking that would make the pain better. False. Those two bandages were actually protecting my finger from the peril of things like air and supersoft bedding. [Immediate update: after about 15 minutes, this was no longer true, but since I had oodles of time to lay in bed and think, I basically wrote this blog post. In my head. No big deal.]

I’d like to say I managed to get right back to sleep, but that’s not actually the case. Rather, I laid in bed, alternatingly hot and then cold, until Husband’s alarm went off at 5:00. I do not like to get out of bed when it is still dark outside.

The one, brief upside: I got to watch Husband shuffle around the kitchen adorably in his underwear and socks with his eyes basically closed the entire time. It was kind of a phenomenon how well he got around without running into stuff.

*Seriously, don’t even get me started on bacon packaging. I mean, I never cook an entire package at one time, which then means I have to wrap the whole thing in plastic wrap so as to avoid bacon juice going everywhere in the refrigerator.


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