I have noticed a trend of late. I cannot buy, carry, hold, take out of the fridge, take out of the carton, move 2 inches...I cannot ANYTHING....eggs...without them breaking.
I don't know what it is. Is it some inner egg hating-ness? Is my psyche lashing out in jealousy after several anovulatory cycles in a row? Worse yet, is my very presence weakening whatever life-force remained in the eggs after the laying, gathering, cartoning, crating, refridgerating, boxing, trucking, shelving, carting, conveyoring scenario?
Either way, I've broken a hideous number of eggs lately. In the store? Yes. In the shopping cart? Yes. Transferring them from the cart to the car? Yes. Transferring them from the car to the house? Yes. Placing them atop the counter while gathering ingredients for pancakes? Yes. As I grab them to pick them up and put them in the water to boil? Yes.
I have come to the conclusion that one of two things must be done. I must either tell my psyche to stop expressing itself by ruining my favorite snack food, or I must start buying thicker-shelled eggs.
In Freedom’s Cause: A Review.
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