I was going to write about one thing today, I had it all ready in my head, and now I have to write about another thing because MY HAND IS ON FIRE and I want to be that girl sulking in the corner holding her hand and whimpering.
I know that I've lit myself on fire before, and the mind leaps to that assumption, but that's not what actually happened this time. This time I poured boiling water on my hand, and it is only the speed of my reflexes in dropping the (fragile, glass) tea cup that prevented something worse than the red sore spots all over my left hand. My reflexes could have helped me out when I started pouring the water, before it got on my hand, though, and I'd be praising them a bit more. My cousin used to make fun of me for having slow reflexes when I was 13 or 14. He would challenge me to do something requiring reflexes and then when I failed he would say, "What's the word? Sloooow." I'm still annoyed about it 15 years later.
The glass didn't break when I dropped it, though. Probably because I was smart enough, after nearly 30 years of dropping and spilling things, to be pouring over the sink.
Also, this morning I almost got hit by a car. It turned left off a tiny one-way street onto a big one-way street where I happened to be frolicking my way across the road to a walk light. Yeah, don't trust those things. Intersections are dangerous. The woman who almost hit me rolled down her window and apologized profusely, and we went about our merry ways, with just enough adrenaline that I walked the rest of the way to work looking around for some heroic feat to perform.
I know that I've lit myself on fire before, and the mind leaps to that assumption, but that's not what actually happened this time. This time I poured boiling water on my hand, and it is only the speed of my reflexes in dropping the (fragile, glass) tea cup that prevented something worse than the red sore spots all over my left hand. My reflexes could have helped me out when I started pouring the water, before it got on my hand, though, and I'd be praising them a bit more. My cousin used to make fun of me for having slow reflexes when I was 13 or 14. He would challenge me to do something requiring reflexes and then when I failed he would say, "What's the word? Sloooow." I'm still annoyed about it 15 years later.
The glass didn't break when I dropped it, though. Probably because I was smart enough, after nearly 30 years of dropping and spilling things, to be pouring over the sink.
Also, this morning I almost got hit by a car. It turned left off a tiny one-way street onto a big one-way street where I happened to be frolicking my way across the road to a walk light. Yeah, don't trust those things. Intersections are dangerous. The woman who almost hit me rolled down her window and apologized profusely, and we went about our merry ways, with just enough adrenaline that I walked the rest of the way to work looking around for some heroic feat to perform.
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