|In which I once again discover that I have not, in fact, lost my very special ability to injure myself in strange and somewhat humorous ways.|
So there I was.
In case any of you were wondering if I had somehow managed to shake the very essence of meri-luck, that special thing that results in my getting injured in the weirdest ways… I can assure you, I have not.
I have recently switched from sitting on the couch seat that has been my usual spot for the last 5 years or so to sitting in the awesome $40 chair I got from a neighbor who listed it in the classifieds on Nextdoor. It’s very comfy, and swivels, and is squishy, and has a matching ottoman. Remember that ottoman. We’ll be talking about it in a minute.
This morning, I was sitting in the chair, going through my loot from yesterday’s trip to Daiso. One of the things I picked up was a two-pack of little utility box cutters. They’re always handy to have around, and always disappearing, so two of them for $1.50 (unless otherwise marked, everything in Daiso is $1.50) seemed a good idea. I had opened the package, and was testing the extend/retract action on one when I dropped it in my lap. Open, of course. (Injury count: 0.)
I then just kind of randomly grabbed at it in an attempt to catch it. (What’s the proper way to catch a falling knife? You don’t.) I managed to get a finger on it, but it fell to the floor anyway, still open. (Injury count: 0.)
I take my feet off of the ottoman and put them down so that I could scoot forward to pick up said knife from the ground. (Injury count: 0.)
I sat back in my chair, and continued to test the knife. (Injury count: 0.)
Having completed my inspection of the knife, I closed it and stored it, along with its twin, in the completely safe place of “somewhere in the pile of stuff on the coffee table.” I have escaped injury from either of the knives or their packaging. (Though I do seem to be setting myself up for something in the future. I should consider a better home for the knives.) (Injury count: 0.)
Realizing I’d never put my feet back up, I do so. During this process, I thought to put a blanket over my legs, and my feet inevitably became entangled with said blanket. Being all about finesse and grace, I kicked and thrashed about a bit until I had wrangled the blanket into submission. (Injury count: 0.)
Satisfied that this particular scrap of silk and wool had not bested me, I once again go to lift my feet… and the sock on my right foot gets caught on the wrap-around cushion of the ottoman. The sudden resistance caused me to jerk my foot a bit, which dislodged my sock, this also resulting in an unexpected change of podal momentum. This final surprise was apparently exactly what was needed for my foot to swing back under the spot on the cushion where my sock had originally snagged, which it did again. I had, up until this very moment, remained uninjured. (Injury count: 0… for now.)
But it seems my luck had run out. This time, it was so much my sock that got caught on the cushion (On. The. *Cushion.*), but rather the first two toes of my right foot. (Injury count: 2.)
So, yes. I just managed to cut two of my toes to the point of bleeding, through my sock, on a cushion.
This is my life.