I was in a rush to leave the house the other evening for a business dinner and managed to nip my finger with some nail scissors. There was blood everywhere. I called my mother, whose first response was, “Why didn’t you just go get a manicure?”
Thanks, Jeanne. That really helped staunch the cascade of platelets.
So I got some ice and the blood seemed to slow. Then I took a band-aid, wound it on my finger as tightly as possible and left the house.
Midway through the dinner I looked down to see if there was any visible blood. Guess what? I had bandaged the wrong finger.
I think I am officially losing it.