I cut my finger with our new bread knife, the selfsame bread knife I bought from my dear friends at the bread store down the strip from the salon the day that I left.  It was a beautiful moment, using the knife for its bready purpose, made rather gruesome when the lovely blade glanced off the crusty top and bounced into the flesh of my right forefinger.  My first thought – this knife is so sharp and awesome!  My second thought – that’s a lot of blood.  Luckily, by completion of the second thought, I was in the bathroom running cold water over the fearsome wound and gritting my teeth against the pain while coaching Nick on a bandaid hunt.  It was still bleeding pretty well once I took  it out from under the running water, but I applied pressure (I know first aid!) and Nick got the bandaid around my finger and then wrapped it with sports wrap to keep the pressure.  It all worked very well until 3:45am the next morning which is when I woke up out of dreams about my finger hurting to find. . . my finger hurting.  I got up, ate a chunk of the bread, took some ibuprofen (the bread was so the pills wouldn’t make my stomach hurt), and went back to bed.  It still hurt.  I think it was the wrap being too tight, but it would twinge rather sharply and jolt me awake.  Also, the twinges would inspire full body twitches, and I kept bumping the stupid finger.  Luckily, it has been healing fast and is now a mildly itchy seam in my finger.

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