Most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious, it’s good for me, it’s the perfect way to start the day. Today I got up, I stepped onto the grill, and it clamped down on my foot… that’s it. I don’t see what’s so hard to believe about that.
When I woke up to the smell of bacon this morning, I was thrilled—until I realized it was the smell of my thigh burning.
I fell asleep with my laptop on my bed last night, and Macbook Pros are notorious for running ridiculously hot. But since I’m a heavy sleeper who needs three alarms to wake up, I didn’t even flinch when the power adapter came in contact with my bare thigh and gave me a crazy second-degree burn! It’s pretty gnarly, and I can’t wear pants for the next week or so.
Oh, well. I don’t like wearing pants anyway.