In which I add to my collection of stupid, near-maiming stories.

I'd been working on composing for a good part of today, when I decided to make myself a late lunch / prelude to dinner.

Looking in the fridge, I thought: "a bagel sandwich will do the trick." I used our trusty, sharp bread knife to saw through the bagel, and as I finished cutting it, sunk the knife into the side of my index finger.

Yes, I know the proper way to cut a bagel, and I even started off doing it that way, but I got impatient.

Now, as anyone who knows me well will tell you, I don't deal well with me bleeding. I mean, the first time I gave blood, I nearly blacked out—which almost happened a couple times today.

I did get up off the floor at one point, not remembering how I got there . . . . I also think I fruck¹ the cats out a bit. The bathroom looked like an old-fashioned barber shop for a little while today.

Eventually I got a bandage on the wound, put pressure on it, and called the amazing tscheese. She is phenomenally, insanely, awesome. She talked to me for a bit until I actually remembered where and when I was, then got a ride over here to make sure I was okay.

I thanked her with alcohol, anime, music dorkery, and eventually drove her home.

I have re-dressed the wound in a fresh, non-bloody bandage, and am feeling much better now.

¹ the past tense of "freak," honest-to-goodness.