Nerves

Last Sunday afternoon I thought it would be nifty to try making caramel. Caramel is one of my favorite flavors, especially with nuts, and I've always been intrigued by the idea of making it myself by melting sugar, rather than buying it in a squeeze bottle or, God forbid, unwrapping and melting down a zillion pieces of caramel candy. I am pleased to report that I did, indeed, make delicious caramel, flavored with real vanilla and Irish whiskey rather than that vanillin gunk Big Food likes to put in everything. In fact, my caramel-in-progress looked so inviting that, without thinking, I dipped in a finger to see how it tasted.

Bad idea. Melted sugar is way hotter than boiling water, and it's sticky to boot. So, through a combination of this act of stupidity and a chem-lab accident in 11th grade, I now have substantial dead spots on the pads of both thumbs and both forefingers. Fortunately, they don't hurt or look awful, and I can still type and knit. But I need to not fry parts of my body on superheated things anymore. (The prior incident involved glass heated to the point where it was pliable. Why do I do this crazy stuff to amuse myself?!)

Moving day is in one month. Thanks to the very-part-time job, I just might have enough cash to carry me through until the loans come through. And after that, I'll have very different things to worry about.