My finger needs a hug... from a baby marsupial. Or something.
I'm an intelligent human being. Really. I promise. But sometimes my brain goes on vacation. Last night was one such instance. Now, my finger needs a hug. Let's travel back in time and figure out what went wrong, shall we?
I studied all day yesterday. When I say all day, I mean all day. I wrote half of a midterm paper, did all my online assignments for Italian, did a practice midterm, made more Italian flash cards, and finished writing two opera reviews. Needless to say, around 8 o'clock my brain was fried. So Jamie and I decided to take a break and take a little walk across the river to get some gelato. It was exactly what I needed, but when we got back I decided I wanted tea. This is where things start to go downhill...
Most people realize that metal, when left for long periods of time over an open flame, becomes hot. Very hot actually. Scalding, even. Apparently my mind was still on break, because I decided to try and move the pot of boiling water with my bare hand. In my defense, I'm used to pots that have flame retardant handles. In fact, I - not the flame - was the only thing being retarded. After a few four letter words and dancing around in pain, I found myself staring into our freezer looking for something to rest my finger on. I tried the bottle of Sambuca first. When I realized that the frost on the outside of the bottle was not water, but liquor, I decided to swap it out for a package of shellfish. While I love the smell of Sambuca, I'd rather not bathe my finger in it.
I was going to type this all last night, but it's incredibly hard to type when your left hand is full of frozen fruta del mare.
Ciao Bella!
Matteo "Gimpy-hand" Yazge
poor thing... I feel so bad I won't even judge you. I wish I wa there to kiss it and make it better.
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