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Last year: A tool that looks like a cross between a rake and a hoe and a medieval torture instrument. |
Shall I spell it out for you? Draw a picture? A little rebus, perhaps, leading you clue by clue to the nature of my plight?
I injured myself yesterday.
Twice.
On the same hand.
The first happened at about 9:15, while I was setting up for the last in my series of classes that I'm teaching at work. I pulled the projector out of its case, and leaned over to set it in the center of the table, and jammed my finger against a chair.
Not just any finger, mind you, but the pinky finger I broke a few years ago when I tripped going up some stairs. It hurt, like that sort of thing always does, but it wasn't until lunchtime that I realized I'd done more than jam it; it was sprained, or at least strained.
The finger won't straighten, but that's a leftover from when I broke it. It doesn't seem especially swollen, and there's no visible bruising. But any pressure on the finger at all - like, say, the effort required for typing - makes it hurt, a dull shooting pain. (Yeah, I know. One generally hears of "dull ache"s and "sharp shooting" pains, but not "dull shooting" pain. I can't help it, though; that's what it feels like.)
And if that weren't bad enough, I was chatting with Kris while I cut up some carrots last night, and not paying sufficient attention to the knife's position in relation to my fingers. Since I was slicing rather than chopping, the resulting cut went most of the way across my index finger and a good quarter-inch deep. At least I know the wound was cleaned; it certainly bled enough.
The good news is that I was using one of the good knives, and I'd just sharpened it. (That's good because, despite meaning it cut deeper than it might have, the edges of the cut are straight and clean and fit back together easily. So despite the length and depth of the cut, it'll heal pretty fast.)
I joked to Kris that I was turning into my mother - there was a time when Mom used to cut herself, and badly, every time she cut up a chicken. (My brother and I used to joke that we wouldn't recognize chicken unless it had been marinated in blood first...) I guess my bane is destined to be carrots. Though this wasn't nearly as bad as the time I sliced the tip off my finger cutting a bagel in half.
I didn't used to think of myself as a clumsy person, you know. But this is getting ridiculous.
Word of the Day: rebus - a representation of syllables or words by means of pictures or symbols; a riddle made up of such pictures or symbols
- Cages by Dave McKean
Current Projects:
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Diet Progress: 15 lbs lost
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