When he wasn't looking, I got back into the Nutella again. I told everyone I wasn't going to eat after 10 o'clock, after 10 o'clock, but then while listening to the FM radio, I was surprised by my tiny dessert spoon and a Nutella-slathered section of my left index finger. Was I blind? Was I listening too hard to the news? I was really in front of the yellow cabinet door. It wasn't yet after 10 o'clock, after 10 o'clock. I just made it over there in the middle of the morning and I suppose again in the early afternoon (that time with only a finger and no spoon). I think the left part of the body is filled with goo now.
