Why manic cooking has limits

Back in late September I was extremely manic. Hadn't slept in a month, had to be busy every minute of every date, couldn't shut up, the world is spinning a million miles an hour manic.

When I am manic like that I tend to try to find projects to stay busy. My therapist hates this as I tend to choose things that involve knives. Last year he made me give him my carpet knife, despite my promises I could use it safely. (Note: I could not. I am far too shaky on a good day to use razor blades.) It took a good month to earn that back and another to admit he was right. This year I found a way around him: cooking. I pointed out that he couldn't have all the knives in my house and he had to trust me for something. I guess I was technically right, and my mom did supervise the most dangerous parts.

Anyway, I did a lot of canning and freezing. I froze 16 pints of applesauce. In making the applesauce I learned that peelers and I aren't friends; I had 4 fingers bandaged for a week. But the end result was worth the pain.

Until tonight. I finally started eating at 9:45, bland foods for my angry stomach.

My first bites of applesauce were the usual delectable yumminess. And then there was the weird bite. Turns out I had mixed in one of those "quality sealed" things and frozen it. Yummy.......

Sure hope nobody else has found weird things...