August 13th, 2012

On Saturday, I was racing across the room to get Admiral off of my laptop keyboard when I slipped on my heel. I went ass over tea kettles and landed on my back. I lay staring at the ceiling for awhile, wondering if my kitten pressing random buttons and possibly flipping my screen upside down was worth this embarrassing incident and decided it probably wasn't. I slowly pulled myself off the floor and noticed that my amazing acrobatics had scared Admiral clear out of the room and he only managed to hit the caps lock key. The bad news was, I got a blood blister on my big toe.

I didn't take a picture of the blood blister, because it was black and disgusting. Although, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fascinated by it because I've never had one before. I squeezed it a little when I first noticed it and a little blood squirted out and it grossed me out so I stopped, put a bandaid on it and said good day. Then, two days later, while staring down at my feet, I noticed that it had grown, and looked like it was going to explode. So, I did what I always do when I see a mysterious skin ailment: I scratched at it and squeezed, and out poured this watery, bloody substance. I squeezed until it felt relatively flat and let me tell you, it was a pretty gratifying experience. Disgusting, yes, but it didn't hurt and I deflated the hell out of it.

But, then I figured I should probably bandage it to avoid future pain and/or infection, and I found the perfect bandaid (again).

Spongebob is the nurturer of all things bloody and painful.

I realize that sounds creepy, but it is a profound truth.