So I stopped at the grocery store on the way home from work, even though I was concerned it would cut into my writing time. I was unaware how appropriate the word cut was when I pulled into the parking lot.
I got the bare essentials: chips, salsa, and a 12 of the Schlafly seasonal brew, Summer Lager. I foolishly gripped the cardboard case by one of the handles as I walked to the car. Sure enough, the handle broke and the 12 pack fell to the ground. I heard something break and exclaimed "Mother Fucker!" just as two old ladies walked past. Judging by their expression, they were both mothers.
Glass had exploded from the top of the cardboard case on onto the parking lot. I bent to pick it up the glass shrapnel, knowing I'd be the one to run over the glass and incur a flat tire if I didn't, and promptly had my finger sliced open.
"Son of a bitch!" I said. A passing guy said "Watch out, that shit is sharp." Understatement of the year. I finished picking up the bits of glass, my finger bleeding the entire time. It wasn't a gusher but it wasn't a paper cut either. I went back into the grocery store to wash it off but the sensor on the modernized sink wasn't working. I stuck a small square of paper towel on the bleeding cut and drove home.
In writing news, I wrote 2.5k in short order after I got home and not a drop spilled on the keyboard. Now I'm going to drink one of my eleven surviving beers.