(no subject)
I had an oil heater fall on my foot last night. It weighs nearly a ton, is as tall as my knees and has these grills that when forcefully knocked against the soft flesh on your foot splits the skin quite easily.
At first I was just cursing and limping back to the bed convinced I was going to have a supremely purple bruise in the morning, but while I was cursing the cat, who had been the cause of the whole painful accident, I realized there was blood seeping through my two layers of socks. After I tore off my socks and looked at the cut, which wasn't even really that big, my vision started to go all glowy and I felt really dizzy. I staggered to the bathroom and by that time my dad had come to see what the terrific crash had been. I drank some water and eventually I got over my dizzy spell. I don't know why that happens to me. I'm really not that squimish, I thought. I mean I don't like blood, but it doesn't freak me out that much, but this is the second time it happened. It happened once before when I cut my finger when a pocket knife closed on it while I was working on a painting in the middle of the night. I fell and knocked my head against the record-player. My mom came rushing at me in a panicked stupor convinced I had some kind of fatal disease. That time my finger was barely cut, it was just a funny story to tell afterward, but this time my foot really does hurt and it oozes every time I walk on it. I'd like to kill the damn cat. If he hadn't been clobbering the door I would have stayed peacefully asleep and never tripped over the freaking heater. I guess the only good thing about the morning was that I didn't have class because the weather was so bad in Hammond.
Now I have math homework due in two hours and I have a splitting headache. I'm just a shiny happy ball of sunshine, I know.
At first I was just cursing and limping back to the bed convinced I was going to have a supremely purple bruise in the morning, but while I was cursing the cat, who had been the cause of the whole painful accident, I realized there was blood seeping through my two layers of socks. After I tore off my socks and looked at the cut, which wasn't even really that big, my vision started to go all glowy and I felt really dizzy. I staggered to the bathroom and by that time my dad had come to see what the terrific crash had been. I drank some water and eventually I got over my dizzy spell. I don't know why that happens to me. I'm really not that squimish, I thought. I mean I don't like blood, but it doesn't freak me out that much, but this is the second time it happened. It happened once before when I cut my finger when a pocket knife closed on it while I was working on a painting in the middle of the night. I fell and knocked my head against the record-player. My mom came rushing at me in a panicked stupor convinced I had some kind of fatal disease. That time my finger was barely cut, it was just a funny story to tell afterward, but this time my foot really does hurt and it oozes every time I walk on it. I'd like to kill the damn cat. If he hadn't been clobbering the door I would have stayed peacefully asleep and never tripped over the freaking heater. I guess the only good thing about the morning was that I didn't have class because the weather was so bad in Hammond.
Now I have math homework due in two hours and I have a splitting headache. I'm just a shiny happy ball of sunshine, I know.