A Shot Near The Mouth

So it's been one of THOSE kinds of weeks at work for both myself and the Aggie. You know, the sort of days when you wish you'd went ahead and bought that handgun when you had the chance because now that pesky three-day waiting period is slowing your urges down.

The details aren't important, as it’s the same story everyone in the world who's ever had a job of any kind would tell.

(For those of you unemployed or still in college, I goes like this: You -- the loyal worker bee -- buzzes around to find both creativity and motivation for the projects you are working. You end up working two weekends in a row, 70 hours a week, making shit HAPPEN. After putting so much of yourself into your job, you think: Yes, sir, I have done it, I have made a difference, this project turned out great! And just as those thoughts go through your mind and you're giving yourself a little mental pat on the back, the boss --- the queen bee -- comes fluttering out in a tizzy and rips your shit to pieces for not being PERFECT. Or missing something small and unimportant. Or -- and this is the most infuriating -- blames you for something you were not at all involved in any way!)

Yes, its been one of THOSE weeks.

To top it off, I broke off a fingernail. Into the quick. Which feels kind of like putting lemon juice on a cut on your balls. I borrowed my cubical mate's pointed-tipped nail file and began to work my broken nail into something less painful.

But the phone rings. And it was someone being a total dickhole. At the time it seemed small, like what the caller had told me didn't really matter and I went on about life. I didn't loose my shit. I just sat there filing my broken nail more and more aggressively. Before I had time recognized that my slow boil was about to bubble right out of the pan, I was found myself filing my nub within an inch of it life. But I was focused. The last thread was broken and all I could do is file. FILE. FILE. FILE.

The next thing I know, my hand slips from where I had been tending to my wounded nail and is careening toward my face. Then, I feel a sudden sharp thus near my mouth.

OH MY GOD. I had just stabbed myself. In the face. With a finger nail file.

Gentle readers, I tell you from the deepest pits of my heart that stabbing yourself in the face is a sure sign that it has BEEN A SHITTY DAY.