Spiderlashes

So I was browsing through my Flickr photos when I found this image.  I think I've posted it before, but I've never really looked at it.  You can see the reflection of my eyelashes in the eyeball! That's crazy! When you look out your eyeballs, do you see your eyelashes? I don't think I can, but in this picture it looks like everything I see should be framed by little spiderleg eyelashes.

WAIT...if you close your eyes almost all the way, but not quite, I think you can see them.  But maybe you have to look at something kinda light...like a window or a white wall?

Mom, I know you're reading this and now you look like a crackhead cause you're trying to see your eyelashes, too.  :)

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I need to go eat some breakfast.  It's 12:30pm.  I've been up for 5 hours, but haven't been hungry?  On days that I work, if I leave the house at 8:00am without any breakfast, I'm ready to chew on paper by the time it's 10:00am...so how come that doesn't happen on my days off?

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We have gigantron furniture boxes in our garage.  We've had them in the garage for over a year, and they've been making me crazy ever since.  I rolled the garbage can to the curb this morning and noticed how extremely light it was.  I checked inside, it was almost empty (saving the Universe with our lack of trash!).  So I rolled it back up to the garage, got out my handy dandy box cutter, and cut boxes.

I like to use things for what they were named for.  Like an apple corer...I core apples with it.  A Shop-Vac...I vacuum my shop with it.  A toothbrush...I brush my teeth.  A Ninja Master Prep...I masterfully (yes) prep vegetables with ninja-like grace.  I have a problem with kitchen shears.  I don't shear anything with my kitchen shears.  I don't make a habit of giving sheep haircuts in my kitchen, so I don't have any use for kitchen shears.  I call mine kitchen scissors.  I use them to scissor things in the kitchen, duh.

And I use box cutters to cut boxes.

I was cutting the crap out of the boxes, cardboard flying left and right, dust all over.  I was a box cutting machine...I could hear the garbage truck driving through the neighborhood, so I was hurrying.  Then I had a horrible image flash into my mind:  my hand slipped and the box cutter sliced open my leg (yoga pants aren't to tough for a box cutter to handle), hitting my femoral artery...and I died in the garage, while box cutting.  Tragic.

So I slowed my box cutting down to a safe pace.  And I still got the garbage to the curb before the garbage man showed up.  What a stressful morning.