There was a Salad Incident this evening. I have yet to go to the corner drugstore for medical tape, but I probably should do this. Greenware is very dangerous to play around with. I was trying to extract a salad bowl from the cupboard. I grabbed the big blue-and-purple dollar store bowl, but wouldn't you know, it fouled with a coffee cup on the way out. I tried to juggle them both to a safe landing, and was completely taken by surprise when somewhere on the way down, the coffee cup came to no harm but the bowl shattered into quite a few million pieces.

"Oh dear," I said, or words to that effect. hcolleen rushed over to my aid.

It was about at this time that I noticed that there was a nice slice through the top of my right ring finger, at an angle so it was both leaking at a steady rate and also not hurting as much as a cut like that should.

I warned hcolleen that I was going to be pouring alcohol on this (fresh out of hydrogen peroxide), so to please not be alarmed if I screamed. She appreciated the warning. I didn't scream, and patched myself up with adhesive bandages to hand, hoping that I wouldn't need stitches. hcolleen fished the notable pieces out of the sink and into the trash can. Hooray for hcolleen!

In the shower tonight, when the bandages inevitably fell off (I'd hoped to keep them on and swap them out after, for maximum not-disturbing-the-wound) I saw to my surprise that the thing seems to have sealed itself. I see the semicircle of discoloration where the edges of the wound are, but it looks and feels not half as horrible as it was earlier. It's re-bandaged, and isn't doing anything alarming.

My foot, on the other hand, is still not happy. I seem to have picked up another bruise on the bottom of it. Are there routinely rocks that I step on wrong? I don't like limited mobility, especially when I have the energy but it just HURTS to walk on.

I have a weird pain threshold. It's the sort of thing that will have me sulking over a hangnail until it heals (actually, hangnails are pretty sharp sorts of pain, but that's beside the point) and then whacking my leg into a sharp desk corner, getting a nasty-looking top layer of skin gouge that either fails to bleed or just slightly prickles with blood, having an alarming bruise ... and wondering where the hell it came from.

I notice it at the time, of course. I'm always smacking into something or other, and it always hurts when I do it. But it's not worthy of committing to long-term memory unless it's something truly epic, or truly painful, or truly dumb, or in some way distinct from all the other times I've mashed myself and gotten an owie.

Evidently bumps, scrapes, and bruises that you don't know how you got are indicative of Problems of some sort or other.

Pain hurts. Why remember it?