This month’s story comes from a day I ended up getting a scrape on my finger. But that’s obviously not the funny part. It’s the how.
I have a strange habit of talking to myself in my mind.
Well, not always just myself. Also other people who simply aren’t there at the moment. It’s usually whoever happens to be on my mind. I have a constantly running mental dialogue. And sometimes my mouth moves in spite of my best efforts to keep it still.
I try not to do it in front of other humans (although as last month’s story illustrates, sometimes I fail miserably).
In this case, I was in the bathroom at work. No one else was in there. And it was a stressful week. So I was having a mental conversation with a friend about it.
I have another strange habit. When I talk (even just to myself), the more intense I get about something, the wilder my gestures. So there I was walking toward the sink, mumbling and gesticulating wildly when *whack* a wall jumps out at my hand. That’s the only explanation for why my hand would hit a wall while every other part of me avoided it easily.
That’s not the worst part.
The worst part is that it was my right hand and the wall was on my left.
Yeah. Your guess is as good as mine. I can’t explain it.
All I know is I had an altercation with a wall that caused my ring to dig into my finger, resulting in a lovely little scrape/bruise. And jarring me out of my in-depth mental discussion.
I immediately promised myself I would tell no one about it.
Four hours later, I told my husband all about it.
Just call me the queen of hilarious and accidental self injury. And excuse me while I talk to myself about it.