One ringy-dingy . . .

The phone rang this evening and I let the answering machine pick up. I listened to my voice speaking on the recording and thought, "no, that's not right at all . . ."

Here's what it would have said if it had been directly connected to my cranium:
Hi, you've reached Jed's brain. Sorry I'm not picking up the phone right now, but, well, I didn't exactly want to talk to you right now, whoever you are. You see, I set out to make some biscuits this evening and was two eggs short, having just put all the eggs on to boil. Going to the grocery store involved leaving all my groceries with the checker and driving back home before driving back to retrieve them (it's a long story) and when I got back things just didn't, um, work out quite right with these biscuits. (Was I doubling or tripling this recipe? I can't seem to remember quite right.) Then there was this pyrex pan that had just come out of the oven, see, and I didn't want to have a mess to deal with later, so I poured some (nice and cold) water into it . . . then there was a loud bang . . . and right now I'm sweeping up lethal glass shards from off of the kitchen floor. So, um, could you call back some other time? Thanks, I'd appreciate that.

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