Today at work I was using the ancient, green paper cutter in the work room for an extended period of time. You may be wondering why, in this technological age, I was spending my afternoon in the work room with the ancient, green paper cutter whose blade is about as dull as watching grass grow. It’s not important, but I was cutting out occupancy load tables to glue to the Community Appearance Board life safety submittal drawings. Fascinating, no?
Aaaaanyway, as I was standing there all alone in the work room with only the distinct scratchy/creaky/squeaky sound of the paper cutter every 2.5 seconds, I wondered how I would react to slicing a finger off.
I know, weird, right? But cutting paper is so mindless, that I started thinking how easy it would be for me to just position a finger a little too closely and then SWOOSH, one aggressive swipe of the blade and I would only have 9 digits. So, then (while still cutting of course) I devised a plan on what I would do if I should happen to lose a finger. These are the kinds of things you think about when you come from a mother who devises elaborate plans of escape from crowded enclosures and randomly gives you pocket knives, tasers, and seat belt cutters “just in case”.
First, I would try very hard not to totally freak out. 1.) because I would be really embarrassed if I cut my finger off and 2.) because I wouldn’t want my co-workers to think I was a drama-queen. Then, I would immediately wrap the bloody stump in my white cotton undershirt (yes, I was wearing an undershirt today) to staunch the blood flow while I located and grabbed my detached finger, and rushed it to the office kitchen where I would take a Ziploc bag from the third drawer on the left, fill it with ice and put my finger in the bag. I would then put more ice on top and zip it up. I’ve heard they can reattach digits if you follow this protocol.
With my hand wrapped in my bloody undershirt and my finger nestled amongst ice cubes, I would call Daniel to come pick me up and take me to the emergency room. OR, if one of my co-workers happened to notice my predicament, and offered to take me to the emergency room, I would gladly accept their offer. The emergency room staff would be quite impressed with my wherewithal to ice my finger and the doctor would efficiently reattach it. Though I would forever have limited use of that particular finger, at least I wouldn’t cultivate the nickname “stumpy”.
Fortunately, I did not have to put my plan of action to the test and finished my paper cutting endeavor without incident.
10 comments:
Hey, I like the new look and picture of you, very nice! Do you remember our plan of action on the high flying swings at Waldamere? We'd put our feet up so they wouldn't get squashed and then just fly over the trees to a (hopefully) safe crash landing, HA!
Your mind really wonders into some strange places, but anyway it looks like you have a good plan for a hacked off finger. Just don't put the finger directly on the ice cuz it may cause frost bite.
PS, I'm happy you did not lose concentration and actually lose a finger in the process.
Your plan sounds wonderful and thankfully you didn't have to put it into action. However, I only see one potential problem....aren't you the girl who cannot stand the sight (or even conversation about) anything remotely related to medical issues? (Remember..I was your partner in the anatomy class from hell...Vicks anyone??) I fear you would pass-out cold onto the floor at the sight of your lopped off digit! So...to be on the safe side...maybe you should stay away from the cutters!
I also like the new picture - and new "tranquil" background color!
Not to be outrageously anal retentive and/or obsessive compulsive, but the way the "inappropriate speculation" bubble cuts off the line to "irreverent observation" makes me uncomfortable and I tend to focus on it way too much.
Other than that... nice new layout!
PRESSURE! YOU MUST APPLY PRESSURE to slow the spirting blood Cafra, and yes no finger directly on ice...as mother said, frost bite. I on the other hand dislike the new page...I like the old one better...perhaps because I am old. Anyways have a good weekend stumpy.
First, you would probably need to get a voice activated phone to call Daniel, because you will need one hand to be staunching the bleeding, and you don't want to try and dial with your bleeding stump, as it would make the phone kind of slippery. You could try dialing with your nose, I guess. Or you could politely approach a trusted co-worker and say, "Excuse me, but I seem to have sliced my finger off. Could you possibly call an ambulance for me?" Fingers before pride, I think.
I had those same thoughts while using that ancient paper cutter. Perhaps it tries to possess it's users to do random harmful things?!? Either way...puffy heart your blog :)
Hmm...okay. So, admittedly, my "plan" has some holes in it. I would probably just pass out anyway at the first sight of blood, and then the whole plan would be shot to hell anyway! Ah well...at least I can PRETEND I'm prepared for disaster, right?
As for the new layout - eh. Just fuckin' around in photoshop and feeling in a "springy" mood. Sometimes ya just need a change.
Since you apparently don't have an email where I can reach you, I'll say it here: the job is in Rome :)
Thanks for your good luck wishes, I send them right back atcha for the house-buying process!!
omg is it really that boring at TMP without me that you have to devise plans to prepare for disaster? I could come up with a disaster for you if you want. you are crazy...how is that.
Post a Comment