Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Stigmata or stupidity?

My head is about to explode from over thinking about Dublin Core and MODS metadata schemes, so I am giving my brain a rest by writing on my blog.  Is that wrong? 

Last night I had an interesting experience.  I arrived home a bit later than usual due to an after work hair appointment.  Lena was revved up and ready to go, so we went out for a dark and damp walk through the neighborhood.  When we arrived home, I fed her and then prepared my own dinner.  Nothing fancy, just a frozen dish from Trader Joe's.  But it DID require the use of my stove, so I was able to avoid my microwave for one evening at least.

Anyway, as I sat down to enjoy my dinner, I happened to catch sight of my right thumb.  I know, it is not like it's normally hidden, but I generally don't pay much mind to my fingers unless they are sending me pain signals.  Apparently, my signals were misfiring last night, because I was shocked to see that there was caked blood all over my knuckle. 

Actually, at first I was not alarmed.  This is because my first instinct was to assume that it was chocolate.  Had I been anywhere near chocolate yesterday?  No.  Was it close to the stove as I made my risotto?  Not even close.  At this point in time, there is no chocolate in my house.  At least not that I can see. 

Why did my brain jump to this conclusion?  Probably because it is usually the correct answer.  I love chocolate so much that I have been known to smear it on my face and hands while eating it without realizing it.  So that mystery is explained, but it did not turn out to be the answer last night.

When I finally made the realization that it was my own blood on my thumb and not something edible, I was momentarily shocked.  As I had not experienced any kind of pain, I was not completely convinced that I had really cut myself.  So I went and cleaned my thumb.  The results were a bit surprising.

At some point between arriving home from my walk and sitting down to dinner, I managed to cut my thumb in two places; one directly below the nail and one right on the knuckle.  The wound generation obviously was not spectacular or noticeable, and it must have occurred early into meal preparation because things were dried and clotted by the time I saw them.

Are you less than amused with my weird story?  I guess this is what counts for entertainment in my life these days.  That and receiving a call from my mother asking if I know the location of one of their TV remotes.  Calls like that are difficult for me because they cause me to want to go on an all-out rampant search of their basement to find the missing object, but I cannot because I am 45 minutes away and staying in for the night. 

So in the end, we are left with two mysteries that are unsolved for the moment.  I still do not know how I managed to mangle my thumb without noticing and I also am unaware if my parents were able to locate their missing remote so that they could watch my brother's senior piano recital on the DVD player.  Lest you find that to be strange, it is a recently received recording of my deceased brother's senior piano recital, so it's special. 

Two more days until my LAST DAY OF CLASS.  One more week until GRADUATION.  Nine more days until VACATION.  How will I handle all this excitement?  Will I accumulate any more mysterious self-inflicted wounds?  Wait and see!

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