What’s in a number?

Happily there have been no Misadventures of Tiffany to report on. Everything’s been just humdrumming along. No complaints about that. Well, maybe I could use a little excitement every now and again, but mostly going along with the typical day to day is preferred.

Sadly that means this post will probably be rather short since I am here to report on the latest Misadventures of Tiffany. I do, however, have a rather quick but entertaining story to tell.

Friday the 13th…

It started off with our Friday visit to the chiropractor. Clark and I went in for our noon appointment. Clark shot himself in the chest with the sanitizer at the reception desk after signing in.

Doc fixed up my back and both of my wrists. He quipped that he hoped I’d enjoyed it half as much as he had. I assured him that I’d enjoyed it nearly as much as he. He got Clark on the table. After a few quick tweaks and a little teasing that he’d be ready to reignite his hula career, he was done.

We confirmed next Friday’s appointment with the receptionist and headed out the door. There was nobody around, so the masks came off as soon as we hit the outside because who really wants to wear those things longer than they have to?

Once in the car, I strap myself in and get a pump of sanitizer from the bottle between the front seats. I bring my left hand, which contains the sanitizer, towards my right hand intending to rub them together and disperse said sanitizer over them. I made it about two (no more than three) inches when my movement was abruptly halted.

I had trapped the sleeve of my sweater into the seatbelt latch.

There I was in the passenger seat with a glob of sanitizer in my left palm and my sleeve trapped in my seatbelt’s latch system. My husband sat beside me laughing at my plight.

After we’d finished laughing, Clark freed me from my bonds, and we headed to the store for half & half and cat food. We (regrettably) grabbed a variety of overly sweetened sugary pastries from the grocery store bakery.

my press happens to be press 13…

I wish I could report that we’d found some luck later that day, but it’s not the case. Instead, we found ourselves working a little harder than expected because Friday the thirteenth struck first shift pretty hard.

I wondered if the press may be a decepticon

At some point during first shift, press thirteen pulled a weapon. I can’t say that I blame them for abandoning the armed piece of machinery and leaving it to us second shifters to approach and disarm. Luckily, the press did not attack as I took this photograph nor when I took away its blade.

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