No sleep for the bloody.

Recently, I was trying to open a pill in one of those bubble things. It was a Unisom. Anyway I couldn't open it, being that I have stubs where my fingernails should be, so I picked up the sharpest steak knife in the house and proceeded to cut the corner off.

A second later, I noticed blood on the counter and realized I had cut a little chunk of my fingertip off. A perfectly round little piece of Havana Brown about the size of a hit of acid. (I don't know why I know that).

All I wanted was to sleep and I couldn't, so as a last resort I rifled through my husbands bag for a little assistance. That's right! I stole it from him while the bastard was sleeping!

Funny how it didn't hurt until I noticed it. I woke up the bastard, (eh hmm... I mean my husband) with my panic-stricken moaning.

He wanted to take me to the hospital, but I declined. I fashioned a makeshift bandage out of some paper towels and held it until the bleeding stopped. (One whole freakin' hour).

All I wanted was some sleep.

The next day I heard him telling friends and family over the phone that I had chopped my finger off. Boy, you wouldn't believe all the attention I got from that.

I like getting attention.

To this day I still don't know where that little piece of Havana Brown went off to.