A slight injury
The other day I was using a pair of scissors to cut open one of those awful packages — the kind made of clear, thick plastic sealed tight and nearly impossible to get open without a hacksaw. Apparently they’re called clamshells, or blister packs. Usually I am careful when opening these things, since they’re so sharp after they’ve been cut, and just so unwieldy in general. But did I think to be careful with the scissors? No I did not. Pinched myself good on the palm of my hand:
Since then, since the blisters formed, I keep seeing them out of the corner of my eye and thinking it’s ink or something. Last night I mentioned that to M., and added that maybe I’d start telling people it was my new tattoo of a pair of eyes, and he came up with the brilliant idea to make it into a face.
