Band-aids are a girl's best friend. Well, this girl at least. I have finally come to terms with the fact that I am accident prone. Well, I really always knew I was (because it runs in my blood, and my brother is just as bad) but I just denied it because I didn't want to be that girl. You know the one I'm talking about... that girl. The clumsy one that trips, falls, spills, gets attacked by flying butter knives, starts kitchen fires, etc.
After a series of about six small accidents in the last month, it's time for me to divulge (or even embrace?) this unfortunate characteristic; that way, people can steer clear of me. Or maybe by blogging about these ill-fated experiences, I will in some way be cleansing my aura and the universe will quit pointing and laughing at me. Uh?
So, to get you up-to-date (if you're my facebook friend, then you already know)...
If you recall, I grabbed a hot burner a little while back. I know, I know. STUPID. I thought it had cooled. But who needs fingerprints?
A couple days later, I cut my finger while cleaning out a used Campbell's Soup can. Sheesh. That's what I get for trying to save the world. It hurt. I danced around the kitchen yelling "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD" until Chris came over and helped me clean it up. Not quite deep enough to need stitches, but deep enough that I could see all the white muscle, tissue and clear fluids.
Then I hurt my hamstring at the gym.
I fell down while putting on my pants (twice). I can recollect Chris saying something like "Wow, are you serious?" then the second time that same week "That was sexy, babe." It's a good thing he loves me.
Shortly thereafter, I burned the cookies to a CRISP because I didn't hear the timer. That was embarrassing because I was baking for guests. So they should have cooked for 12 minutes and were in there for, hmmm, I'd say about 45.
I started a kitchen fire (twice). Once by grabbing the burner with an oven mitt and once -- well, I blame that one on Chris for leaving crumbs under the burner. Wow, those burners really hate me. Our smoke detector goes off regularly. The neighbors love us.
I currently have an oozing blister on my wrist from a curling iron.
Now for the flying butter knife attack (you guys will love this -- it comes with pictures). I work in a warehouse as a copywriter writing product descriptions for the website. So my job entails of sitting, staring and typing. Oh yeah--AND the occasional walk to the warehouse to carry products to shelves. Apparently that was too labor-intensive for me? The work environment is very professional and we take our jobs very seriously.
Anyway, I'd just finished writing a very elegant and heavy-duty 65-piece sterling silver flatware set. It looked similar to this (pay close attention to the display window, because that comes into play later):
I carried it out to the warehouse, like a good lil employee, and placed it a shelf or two above my head. As it started falling, natural instincts took over, and I put my arms out to catch it. Well, the butter knife in that damned display window happened to be at the perfect attacking angle. It sliced my right index finger TO THE BONE. Yep. A butter knife.
Doctor at workcare center: [while preparing tools to scrub my cut] "So, what do you do, Crystal?"
Me: [ashamed] "I'm just a copywriter."
Dr.: "How'd this happen?"
Me: "It was just a freak accident. I don't even know." [eye roll]
[long pause during cut scrubbing]
Me: "If you could just throw some super glue on there, OR SOME OF THOSE DISOLVING STITCHES (!) I'll be on my way."
Dr.: [laughing] "Nope, sorry. Not with a laceration like this. You need stitches."
Me: [sob sob sob]
Chris: [in whispers] "Hey look, babe. That nurse looks like Christina (from Grey's Anatomy).
She really did look JUST like her. And she talked like her. And walked like her.
This is what it looked like after it had been gushing blood for about 40 minutes already:
This is what the giant bandage looked like:
This is what it looked like after I got 4 stitches and endured the indescribable pain of the numbing shot:
This is what it looks like now (four weeks later):
It's healing up quite nicely; the only problem is, I've lost the feeling in my finger. Because the cut was so deep (to the bone, yeah, OUCH) there's sensory nerve damage. I'm hoping the numbness and tingling subsides because it's sort of a pain to ask Chris to open all the jars. And I like my index finger. I've grown quite fond of it.
So, there you have it. Butter knives are deadly and being a copywriter is a dangerous job, but someone has to do it.