My turkey sandwich Headache.

Welcome to another edition of "How do I do these things?".  I really wish this was a series I didn't need to write, but like developing TMJ from cleaning my purse, I've learned I have to either laugh or cry at the things I do, and personally I prefer to laugh.

The other day I bought some mesquite smoked turkey for sandwiches.   This morning, I decided to fix a sandwich and have chips for breakfast.  I open the drawer in the fridge where I put it.  I couldn't find it.  I took everything out of that drawer.  Cheeses, Mom's ham (and I hate ham.  It is one food I can't stand to eat, so that was not an option for my sandwich), hummus, hot dogs. . .

I asked Mom, who was in another room.  She claimed she hadn't done anything with it and she didn't know why I couldn't find it.

I inserted myself deeper into the fridge, still looking.  Not realizing how far inside the fridge I was, I raised up, and really clonked my head against the bottom of the freezer door, which was closed.  I had to sit down.  After seeing stars, even with an excruciating headache, I continued taking everything out of the fridge in search of my turkey.  I was not going to let a lunch meat get the best of me.

After a little bit, I said, "I can't find it anywhere.  I can find your ham, but I can't find my turkey."

Mom informed me that was not her ham, she had eaten it. 

In reality she made mesquite smoked turkey grilled cheese sandwiches.  When I informed her of that she said "I didn't think they tasted quite right."

And I didn't feel like my head felt quite right, so I went back to bed. 

It's now dinner time and I still have a bit of a headache but it's nothing compared to what it was. (And I'll live, I do think it's time for more Tylenol.)

A turkey sandwich did get the best of me after all.