it was the plan, the vetting of the plan, the sign off of the plan, the execution of the plan.

so I mean yeah, just like generally the plan. I haven’t made mead since, because it represents possibly the most monumental TIFU of my entire god damned life

my friend, sometimes ordering a pizza is a valid life choice

Sort of.

I was making a gigantic batch of mead. Like 5 gallons of it, boiling away merrily. I carefully prepared my glass carboy ahead of time and poured the must (aka: that-which-will-be-mead-after-yeast-farts-in-it) into my carboy. This was fine. All according to plan.

The bucket of ice and cold water I added to the sink to cool it down faster so that I could throw the pitched yeast into it… also according to plan.

What was not according to plan was a gunshot sound going off, shards of glass shooting through the air like a grenade, and honey water cascading out over the edge of my sink all over my floor.

I’ve never felt more broken.