I just spent upwards of two minutes trying to wrestle this plastic wrap off of my pound cake. For some reason, despite being otherwise perfectly capable of getting around in the world, I could not manage to find the tail end of a piece of plastic wrap.

When I finally managed to slip a fingernail under an invisible seam and yank it just so, freeing enough of that pernicious wrapper for me to unveil my bit of cake, I realized how I looked: My brow was furrowed; my tongue stuck a good half-inch out of tightly-clenched teeth, the tip just touching my upper lip. I had to invest that much concentration.

There are many reasons why I am happy my desk is in the back of the room where nobody ever looks at me. The fact that consequently nobody saw me making that face has just leapt to the top of the list.