Current mood: peaceful
I don't care what you think
As long as it's about me
The best of us can find happiness
In misery
~ "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy
My left thumb is wounded. Somehow – and I don't know how – there is a hole in it. Okay, perhaps the word 'hole' is an exaggeration. There is, however, a pretty good size of flesh missing from it. What it looks like happened is that I had a small cut or something, and instead of letting it heal, I messed with it. So, now there is a hole. It is similar to biting your nails – you don't realize what you are doing until the damage is already done. I covered it with Neosporin Cream (not the gel, which I hate) and attempted to cover it with a band-aid – but no luck. The band-aid is uncomfortable, so I removed it.
Hand wounds are tricky little bastards – because they are hard to keep covered and clean. A few years ago, you may remember when I sliced my finger and nicked the bone while attempting to do a decorating project using a knife instead of scissors. Well, this morning, when I walked outside, I realized that when it is cold, that finger hurts. The scar tissue must have something to do with it. I suppose I am getting old when I start blaming body aches and pains on the weather.
Speaking of getting old – my aunt once tried to explain to me that as we age, our mind starts to work like one of those crane games where you try to pick up the stuffed animal with a grappling hook. You may be trying to grab the purple bear, but the crane picks up the football instead. I am like that with words. I like to believe that I have an extensive vocabulary. Yet, I still just throw out the wrong words at inopportune times. For example, I was trying to tell someone a story the other day, and I threw in the word 'lunch', which made absolutely no sense. NONE! I cannot remember what word I was trying to use – but I assure you that it had nothing to do with meal times. It was a brain misfire – and I was somewhat embarrassed.
I realize that my face has not aged as rapidly as the rest of me. And I do not think that 32 is exceptionally old. In fact, I happen to like being in my early-30s. There are a lot of plusses to being out of my 20s. Still, I wish that my joints didn't creak when I stand up and that I can remember where my keys are at any given time.
DAMNIT! I just realized that I missed my PT appointment this morning. Bloody Hell! Until right now, I didn't even know that it was Tuesday!
I wonder what else I have forgotten!
PERSONAL NOTE: I really miss talking to you! We should remedy that!
CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Multiple lifetimes – and still, we cannot get it right! Hmmm.
