Not a day goes by that I don't hurt myself in some form or fashion. Anything from cutting myself shaving to slamming my leg into the elliptical at the gym to burning my neck with the hair straightener. It's all fair game. Yesterday was a particularly rough day, injury-wise.
Stabbed myself in the eye - twice - before even leaving for work. Dropped a very large box on my big toe, drawing blood. And then last night at TopGolf (where apparently every time I go I now hurt myself), my awesomely adorned wrist-o-bracelets turned against me. It was the gorgeous Nellie & Frieda bracelet that my sweet friends gave me for my bday that was the true "perp" in this case. (My new favorite words are "perp" and "vic," and I don't even watch Law & Order. But I digress.) The bracelet kept rubbing my wrist raw every time I would swing the club. And after 40 balls, the area was raw and bleeding. Even got freaking blood on my yellow Bermuda shorts. Dammit. Perhaps this is why pro athletes don't wear 18 bracelets at a time? Wimps.
All this to say, I am reminded of a classic Seinfeld stand-up line. Something about "these commercials for laundry detergent, where the people are stressed out over removing blood stains? You've got a bigger problem than clean clothes. You. Are. Bleeding." (took a little creative liberty there with the verbiage. You understand - I'm wounded and not thinking clearly.)
Arriving home, I got out my trusty first aid kit and noticed that pretty much everything has been used up. And I bought the thing like a year ago. That's not good.
Stabbed myself in the eye - twice - before even leaving for work. Dropped a very large box on my big toe, drawing blood. And then last night at TopGolf (where apparently every time I go I now hurt myself), my awesomely adorned wrist-o-bracelets turned against me. It was the gorgeous Nellie & Frieda bracelet that my sweet friends gave me for my bday that was the true "perp" in this case. (My new favorite words are "perp" and "vic," and I don't even watch Law & Order. But I digress.) The bracelet kept rubbing my wrist raw every time I would swing the club. And after 40 balls, the area was raw and bleeding. Even got freaking blood on my yellow Bermuda shorts. Dammit. Perhaps this is why pro athletes don't wear 18 bracelets at a time? Wimps.
All this to say, I am reminded of a classic Seinfeld stand-up line. Something about "these commercials for laundry detergent, where the people are stressed out over removing blood stains? You've got a bigger problem than clean clothes. You. Are. Bleeding." (took a little creative liberty there with the verbiage. You understand - I'm wounded and not thinking clearly.)
Arriving home, I got out my trusty first aid kit and noticed that pretty much everything has been used up. And I bought the thing like a year ago. That's not good.
First Aid kit. Great Xmas idea!
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