So, what did I do this weekend? Not much. Just ripped off a large piece of cuticle around my pinkie finger, resulting in the loss of a half-dozen pints of blood (or so it seemed).

For the love of God, why do we insist on pulling that little piece of skin, knowing full well what's going to happen? Why I ask you! WHY!!! I'm 53 years old, I should know better.

You would think that after half a century, and literally thousands of "lessons learned," I would know enough to stop once it starts to hurt and go and find a clipper in the drawer.

And it always seems like whenever I do something stupid like this, I never have a tissue nearby to sop up all the blood. Thank goodness blue jeans are the color they are.

And then there are those times when you're not wearing dark colored pants. That's when you have no other choice but to put your finger in your mouth and suck like a vampire.

Why is it when I see that little piece of skin hanging there I think to myself, "You know, If I rip it off really fast it won't bleed - I'll catch my flood vessels off guard." Yeah right!

My co-worker Tammy described it the best, "I pity the day I become a sweater and that thin layer of sensitive skin holds on long enough to make it all the way up to my shoulder."

There is that rare time when a clear type of fluid will first start to ooze out, making me believe that perhaps this time I did it - fooled the blood Gods. Nope, joke's on me.

So, should our paths cross today, please steer clear of my left hand. I just literally got it to stop bleeding, and I don't want to have to start over with my mark of stupidity!!!


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