2001-04-02 :: 9:34 p.m.


An interesting development is that ever since my kitchen accident in February, I am hyper-aware of my hands. I am constantly watching them, always careful as to where they are in relation to possibly dangerous objects. Scissors, iron, knives, glass.

Glass especially, since that's how I messed up my hand in the first place. Now when I do dishes, I wear those awful yellow rubber gloves. I look like a mad scientist. And the smell they leave behind is so vile. But I don't think I can ever do another dish without them on. The mere thought of how I sliced open my hand and how easy it is to do it again makes me cringe, makes me not want to handle drinking glasses.

The scar is evil. it's still red and raised and shiny and I can see underneath it because it's kind of translucent (ew). I can see where there's still a piece of a stitch stuck there. I wonder if that will eventually get infected. I hope not. I hope they don't have to re-open the wound. Gah.

I'm big on not having to do that.

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