I have to go to the hospital!!!!!!!!!!

Those very words came out of my mouth last night pre-emptively. Yes I OVERREACTED to a teeny tiny boo boo on my finger.

It all started when my friend (what's a common last name?? Hmm... I'll call her Mrs. Smith, that could be anyone) started cutting a cantaloupe with a knife. A big, scary, sharp, dangerous knife that really should only be handled by professionals. Anyway, she was cutting this cantaloupe and as we all know cantaloupes are round and one of the halves began to roll off the counter top. We both go to grab the cantaloupe, but Mrs. Smith was still holding her knife so it made deep impact with my finger and well the blood started flowing and I may have panicked a little bit. (Or a lot depending on who is telling this story.) So I yell immediately, "I have to go to the hospital!" and FORCE my knife wielding friend to take me. Once we get there and wait for 30 minutes and the bleeding starts to subside I look at my finger, realize it's only a flesh wound and think maybe I jumped the gun with my desperate need to go to the hospital. A flipping butterfly strip and a HUGE whole in my wallet later I feel quite foolish.

As a consolation to my panic, the cut was quite deep as it is still bleeding 16 hours later.

Oh and I'm moving tomorrow... I wonder if the damsel in distress routine will get me out of lifting any heavy boxes? It's worth a shot!