I thought to loosen and homogenize it. I did not think of possible consequences.

I was going to pour some applesauce over cottage cheese, which I already like, and applesauce just makes it better.

I tried to loosen the lid to unscrew it.

I could not.

It was frozen in place.

I put it under my shirt to buffer the traction and preserve my twisting hand from blisters, torn skin, and possible blood.

No. Nothing. It didn’t budge.

So I stopped to think.

Why had it turned so easily before? I had unloosened the lid many times and never had a problem.

What had changed?

I concluded, from my little bit of scientific knowledge, that shaking the jar had infused some of the air inside into the applesauce, creating a partial vacuum.

The greater air pressure in the outer room froze the lid. I understood this, because I had taught science to my fifth graders years ago and we had done experiments, like the egg in the bottle.  

I was hungry, and looked longingly at the applesauce so visible but unreachable inside the jar. I screwed up my courage to unscrew the lid, and tried again.

No.

No loosening, no twist and turn, no dice, no luck. However you want to say it, no.

The frustration of unsatisfied hunger unassuaged caused me to tighten my grip.

No.

I sat there and looked at my empty future.

I screwed my courage to the sticking place, and with what must have been the desperation of all my strength, tried again. I gritted my teeth, became a tyrant, refused to succumb to a vacuum in a jar, and the lid broke the seal and turned!

O frabjous day, calloo callay, I chortled in my joy! The day was brillig! My beamish arms were in my hands! I had conquered the inertia of existence and the power of emptiness!

The cottage cheese was sweet, and life was good.

I could say more about it philosophically, but my mouth, like life, is full, and, soon, my stomach.