It's been one of those days, that's for damn sure. As evidenced by the fact that it's nearly 2:00 in the morning and I'm typing this. The day was, for the most part, nondescript. Busy as fuck, but none too exciting. Oh what am I saying? It was riveting! Paperwork! Last-minute addendums to paperwork! Lunch! Paperwork! Discussion! Paperwork! And then home to cast aside the paperwork and continue the packing. Avoiding phone calls and ignoring text messages from the parentals asking me if I'm packing. Spending some time with my honey. Probably the most sane two hours of the entire day. Without which I probably would have fallen over dead.

Oh wait, I nearly did die tonight. Over dinner. The unwitting (that would be me) savoring a delicious meatless microwave chili made with none other than bits of Boca burgers. Sitting down to eat, and reveling in the absolute tastiness of the chili, with shredded cheese atop it. Conversing about which of us likes crackers with our chili. Placing the plate/bowl combination on the coffee table to add more cheese. Looking up as I'm saying the wittiest, and funniest, comment about crackers and chili the world has ever heard. Reaching for the cheese. Not using peripheral vision effectively. Right hand coming in contact with awaiting plate/bowl combination of delicious chili. Chili bowl flying into the air, twirling, no less, and landing all over my hand, my jeans, and the carpet.

You know how, even though it's not in the movies, some things seem to happen in slow motion? Because you totally see what's going to happen, and can therefore notice everything in the minutest of detail? So even though it takes less than one second to happen, it feels like at least three? My delectable bowl of chili didn't move in slow motion. No. I'd venture to conjecture that it actually was in fast forward mode. Had it been caught on film, it may have looked like the abused and stunningly dumbass film technique employed in a certain unmentionable not-Oscar-worthy movie, the image repeating itself in gray shadows as it moves faster than normally super-fast speed.

The four bites of that part of dinner were like heaven in a bowl. The following debacle to clean the carpet, clean my jeans, and get the scalding chili off my hand and wrist, had it been witnessed by a Hollywood producer, might be the inspiration for a scene in a new Ben Stiller movie. And although I was expecting my hand to blister or be victim to an even worse fate (I was mincing around in pain), dousing it in cold water seemed to cure it just fine.

Fortunately, the mess was pretty cleanable, and the chili didn't fly with a far enough radius to do too much damage. I'm kinda wondering what will happen to my jeans, though, because they were covered in chili. When I came home, I coated them thickly with Spray 'N Wash, the wildly successful stain remover. Of course, if the stain doesn't come out, I suppose all I'll be able to do is hope that someone decides the "jean-spattered-with-chili-sauce-stains" look will be the next big popular fashion statement. I don't think that's too lofty a hope on my part, really.