Wednesday, September 1, 2010

Why does everything in my life snowball into a complete cluster fuck?

I WANT TO KILL A BABY. OK, no I don't. I would never ever actually murder an infant child. Or animal. I couldn't even kill the lobster, people. I am incapable of murder. Except today. TODAY, I could have murdered someone.

So, we all remember Fingergate 2010, right? Well, then I had a weird reaction to the tetanus shot and my arm swelled up like a baseball, had a fever, and vomited. I also remember almost nothing from Tuesday. Today at school, people told me that they were really worried because I was acting like some kind of lunatic yesterday. Awesome.

THEN. I went to work. You know the place where they pay you to be there and if you act like a lunatic, they tell you to never come back? Yeah. Burst into tears when my boss kind of, but not really, yelled at me. Then vomited and pretty much bolted. Also, I almost passed out after I almost cut off MY ENTIRE FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK FINGER ON A SLICER. Not even the bad finger. So, yes, if you are counting, I would be down to 8 3/4's fingers.

So, I walk into school today and am all, weeee! I'm normal again. Normal is fun. One more time. WEEEEE!

Then my fucking classmate smashed my fucking finger with her fucking knee into a stainless steel mother fucking table and I BURST INTO TEARS and ran out of the room. Where I proceeded to sob in the bathroom. And nobody came to check on me. Which made me cry harder because, nobody loved me. Then a very unexpected person came to check on me - still not the fucking cunt rag that smashed my finger - and made me laugh. Then I went back to class and iced it and cried more.

Sorry for the cunt rag. I have rage. And am inappropriate. Inappropriately ragey.

I felt like a complete fucking douche canoe. Like, seriously, I am a grown ass woman sobbing over my finger. But on a scale of 1 to 10, I rated the pain a 1 in the ER. When I cut off the tip of my finger. Table meet finger was about, oh, 432. She actually tore the cut, so, in my defense, fucking ouch. But, still.

So, yeah, today I get to want to murder babies. Tomorrow I will return to the regularly scheduled, socially acceptable hate of just wanting to murder stupid fucking idiots. And I will try to refrain from the c-word.


Bradshaw said...

Dude, hitting the injured finger? TOTALLY JUSTIFIES CURSING AND CRYING. Dear lord, I can relate to that. It somehow always hurts more after the incident. I mean, for realsies, my scar STILL hurts when I bash it into something, which is an unfortunately frequent occurrence. It'll be ok.

The Boy said...

I wonder how this compares to a broken toe? I bet it's about the same :D