There are those times when you make really stupid mistakes that you instantly regret, and wish with all of your might that you a little bit cautious. I feel this way every time I’ve ever gotten in an accident or pulled over. Don’t worry, this doesn’t happen often, or at least it hasn’t for the past 3 years or so, but I clearly remember the feeling. So much so that anytime I see a police car even remotely look like it’s following me I start hyperventilating, my blood gets hot, and my muscles slightly start to clamp. Maybe I have a bit of an over-stated fear of having car incidents, but this time, my stupidity had nothing to do with a car. Or the police. I had watched a movie, called Chemerical, which wasn’t a particularly brilliant, but for some reason it put me into domination mode, and I ran through my house throwing all of my chemicals in a large shopping bag to take ‘round to the garbage. I couldn’t have any VOCs in my house anymore! So the next day I headed to the grocery store and picked up washing soda, borax, lemons, and more baking soda, even though I already had three large boxes of it. Oops. Then, this is where the stupidity comes in, I made up my mind to re-use some boxes with my handmade chemicals, and I grabbed a steak-knife that was on the counter and tried to pry the lid off the Comet tube and in less than a second I had sliced an inch along the bit of skin beside my thumb. I glanced down and saw a gaping hole and the grayish inside of my hand and…begin the freak-out. Actually, my feak-out only lasted a few minutes because Roger called my sister for me and she said to go get it stitched up, and for some odd reason, having a mission made my queasiness and pain almost go away. It was as if just the idea that I had a hole in my skin was the cause of my fear. The entire way to the urgent care center, because we don’t live anywhere near a hospital, I was bashing myself for being such an idiot. I could have used a butter knife just as easily, I was foolish for even trying to open a Comet jar, and why was I holding my hand right beside the knife blade??
I was still glum and slunk into the urgent care center, prepared to face many scolding looks from the Doctor for my foolishness. The owners of the center were foreign, perhaps Russian, and were probably some of the nicest people I have ever met. Really, I have never felt so at ease and comfortable chatting away with the doctor and nurse, and I left feeling not only uplifted, but rather proud of myself for not wincing once while I was getting shots and stitches. I also went out right away to pick up my prescription for antibiotics, which I never do. There is a lesson in here somewhere about customer service leading to happy customers, or seeing the bright side during bad events, but all I could feel is that my bad night didn’t turn out like all of those speeding tickets. It is actually something of a pleasant memory now.