Monday, Ouch

I've been particularly clumsy lately. I mean, let's face it, doing things like tripping up the stairs, dropping plates and glasses, losing my balance in a parking lot, hitting myself in the face with cabinet doors and running over my toes with a closet door have been my curse since I could walk and hold things. It's likely a combination problem. My poor coordination paired with terrible depth perception make me a candidate for scraped knees and a bruised forehead (the cabinet thing... which I did twice yesterday.)

Last night, while slicing my fanciest Parmesan, I nearly cut my index finger in half. The slice is down at the tip, on the outside and nearly goes half way through.

I went to the ER. Really, is there anything more depressing than a city Emergency Room? There were people in WAY worse shape than I was. There were children who looked like they'd been waiting for five years to see someone... screaming at the top of their lungs while their beat down, worn out, frazzled mom's and dad's surrendered to the seemingly-eternal waiting room line.

I.

Just.

Couldn't.

So, I headed home, in pain, stopping off quickly at the Rite Aid to grab some first aid supplies. I think that I made the right choice. It hurts... but I don't think stitches will be necessary. Jay will likely need to do the dishes and baths for a few days (mwah hahahhahahhahahahha) but otherwise I'm okay.

Bunny cried on her way into school again. My poor little birdie. It's heartbreaking.