Seeking comfort, anyone?

Alright, already. What is the Universe trying to tell me? What exactly am I turning a deaf ear to? What? What? and Why?

I could be accused of many things in this life time, but being a kltuz and doing ‘stupid’ physical things is usually not part of my repetoire. Usually.

Recently, I have hurt myself – bad – twice. A month ago you might recall that I popped my left knee out of its socket – completely. Well, tonight I burned the everliving Hell (pun intended or not) out of my left hand – blisters and all. And how, might you ask, did I accomplish these quite painful results? Well, I will tell you that it all began with my deciding to ‘treat’ my SO and myself with some food comfort aka homemade chicken soup.

Well, I successfully and skillfully (if I must say so myself) cooked up a pot of delish, delightful and, of course, Comforting, soup.

In my zeal to share my comforting concoction with the SO, I managed to burn the everliving CRAP out of my palm and back of my Left hand. Lovely. Ouch. and tears and Ouch, again. I am not a’kidding. When blisters appear, immediately, a burn is never a fun or good thing.

The SO swears that the soup was tasty. And for that unbiased review, I am grateful. Sort of.

Most of all, I am in pain.

How can spilling a small amount of Comforting Chicken Soup on one’s hand equal so much displeasure?