#995 Paper cuts

Paper cuts are a unique injury.  And by “unique” I mean inconceivably painful and embarrassing. Because they’re tiny. Miniscule. Unnoticeable to the untrained eye. But dammit if they don’t hurt like a son of a gun.You should try for workmans comp.

You should try for worksman comp.

You should try for worksman comp.

And of course everyone was standing around when you yelped getting it. There was even one of those  phenomenons where every conversation hit a lull at the same time making the room dead silent, only for the silence to be shattered by your schoolgirl cries. So when everyone comes rushing over to help you from the near death situation you just alerted them to, you have to bashfully explain that no, while the volume and tone of your shriek said “mortal wound,” in reality it’s a half inch long flesh scratch. Move along, nothing to see here.

The exact opposite of a papercut.

The exact opposite of a paper cut.

There is a silver lining in this craptacualar situation though. Paper cuts don’t discriminate. It doesn’t matter if your skin is crusty and craggy or soft as a baby’s bottom, there’s a paper’s edge out there with your name on it. And it will find you.

Terrible.

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1 Comment

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One response to “#995 Paper cuts

  1. Evan Minsker

    Just got TWO yesterday. What shit! The first one bled profusely, and I had to ask the people at the library for one (humiliating). Then, I got cut #2, so in a state of panic, I had to transfer the OLD band-aid to the fresh cut. Bluch.

    One more terrible thing? People sharing a passionate, romantic kiss right in front of the door to your apartment building while it’s raining. I mean come on. I understand that you’re “having a moment” or whatever, but it’s seriously coming down out there. Don’t make me feel like a dick just for having to walk through the front door.

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