Tuesday, May 31, 2011

War wound.

I cut my finger. Totally my fault, totally a dumb accident, and totally freaked me out.

I panicked and called my friend Julianne. She came right over with her doctor roommate, who cleaned me up, stopped the bleeding, and got me all patched and bandaged up.

The best part of the story is all the reactions to my large bandage.

It was finals week at work so after actually explaining the entire story, one of my colleagues said, "Yeah, I don't think that any of us should be operating any heavy machinery this week." Everyone laughed, and then she said, "Maybe we shouldn't even be driving."

Then I went to class, and of course my students had tons of comments. Everyone asked what I had done and when I said, "I cut my finger," one student said, "Did you cry?" And he sounded really excited about it.

I said, "Well, no. It's not a crying thing. It's more of a 'AHHH! WHAT JUST HAPPENED!!!"

Then I went in to my evening class, and one of the students had his finger wrapped and bandaged. Exact same hand, exact same finger. So everyone made both of us tell the story of what happened. (He cut his while reloading his weed-eater).

Then after all the school/work questions and explanations, I went to Wal-Mart to run some errands. I was walking down the aisle, looking for toothpaste or something, and a fifty-year-old man walked past me. He looked at my hand holding on to my shopping cart and said, "Oh boo-boo."

I just looked at him.

"That's a big ouchie."

Then I was just like, um, are you kidding?

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