Earlier in the week, I posted at Twitter that I was on the verge of death. Well, more specifically, that I didn't expect to see the light of day the following morning. The exact message read as follows:
Post-It: "Seal was open on one side. Inner seal still intact. If I'm dead in the morning, stay away from the turkey. Love, Rach."
I found that Post-It still attached to the turkey when I went to go make a sandwich today.
For some reason, I'm still really nervous about getting the bubonic plague or something vile from eating poisoned turkey. The sad part is, the only person whose medical judgment I actually trust these days is Dr. House, and something tells me he won't be coming to the rescue when I wake up tomorrow in desperate need of a lumbar puncture and an MRI.