Writing Material

It's hard for me to even explain how it happened, but I cut my cornea. My hair straightener was sitting on the counter in a tangled mess, as usual, and I usually don't have the motivation to wrap it up nicely and put it out of the way, but on last Sunday afternoon it was Mother's Day, and I know the tangled mess bothers my mom (I'm not blaming the corneal abrasion on her, just trying to reason with myself why I decided to pick up the instrument of injury in the first place), so in my burst of Mother's Day generosity, I decided I would twist the cord around the flat iron and put it away somewhere. This seems like a safe enough activity, although tangled cords are never completely danger-proof. I didn't have time to consider the potential of the metal plug to flip into my left eye and scratch my cornea until four seconds of decision-making and the physical movement of my hand to the hair flattening device passed and it happened. Joni was there. She was sitting there watching me the whole time. I swear the thing snapped out and bit me like a snake. I cried out, of course, because this always makes me feel better when I stub my toe, or something like that. I think Joni knew it was worse than a stubbed toe, because she just sat there, sweetly concerned as I held my hand to cover my eye and contemplate the searing pain.

Describing things that have happened to me, usually unfortunate things, is the main source of my writing material. And they are unfortunate to the point that, at the time, it was kind of miserable, but after the fact a comedic element might be appreciated. Since I am still wearing sunglasses indoors and at night, just like the song, I don't think it is terribly funny just yet that I managed to slice my cornea with the metal plug of a hair styling device I wasn't even planning to use at the time. It makes it sort of challenging to read what I am typing. And a student keeps asking me to take him for a walk outside so he can process the stress he is feeling over his small stomach ache and the annoying fact that his classmate refuses to acknowledge the information he is giving her for her electromagnetic spectrum project. The thing is, she thinks microwaves have no potential to be dangerous because they just heat up her burrito for lunch and things like that, because she is only considering microwaves as functioning in ovens, but he knows that microwaves do other things for radars and space communication, etc, (I have no idea), but she refuses to listen to him because she is stressed out, too, about her project and other things. Like how she told me, "And to top it all off, I have herpes!" and she was just making a joke about some cold sores on the sides of her mouth, and it was actually pretty funny, but the therapist warned her some people might be alarmed to hear her shout that out and she might want to reconsider telling just anyone that in the rare case that a person might not appreciate or understand her joke. So then she was worried about who else she might have told that joke to earlier and whether or not they think she really has an STD. Anyway, I had to tell the other student that I can't really go outside in the sun very comfortably to take him on a walk because of my corneal abrasion.

My job has fairly good writing material potential as well. It is funny to a point, but it also makes me feel sad sometimes. Some people live in such a struggled form of existence, and I work with them every day, and I like it. I mean I like working with them. I just hope that I am in some way helpful. I really do wish I could go on that walk.