Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Paper Cutastrophe


I have, currently, what might be considered a world-record-breaking-deep paper cut.

It happened this afternoon when I unzipped my backpack. The fluid motion of my hand somehow perfectly sliced right over the stack of apparently very crisp papers too close to the mouth of my zipper (I should have known better). Of course, I immediately went into the five stages of grief:

Pushing the flaps of skin together in denial, hoping it hadn't happened; anger at myself, my backpack and my teacher who had just given me all those papers; bargaining with God; depression at the thought of countless paper cuts I have yet to suffer before the end of my life,
And finally, acceptance that I was just going to have to continue typing with a wad of toilet paper over my middle finger making all my e's and d's hybrid we's and ds's.

But there is a sixth, unpublished stage in which you just don't really get after death of a loved one, diagnosis of cancer. The sixth stage of grief associated with a paper cut is of course post-traumatic shock. Reaching into my backpack since has been like September 12 on Times Square. Not only that, but every time my cut hurts, I have Nam flashbacks of how it happened, and there is just something inhumane about the act of a paper cut... let alone reliving it over and over.

Next time God, how about I stick my hand in a knife drawer and get some kind of gnarly, jagged
gash on my finger instead. At least then I'd have a cool scar and I wouldn't be afraid of my backpack anymore.

And we're back to step three.

3 comments:

Jane said...

sounds awful maggie. just awful. It's kindof like that one morning this summer when I slept through my alarm on the day that I was at the elementary school. I couldn't help but raise my fist at the sky and ask "God???? I thought you loved me." It just doesn't make sense. I think you need stiches. Get Well.

Livi said...

maggie pretty sure there is nothing else in the world worse than a paper cut. I deeply remember such instances of my own and the trauma is too much to handle sorry about the nam flashbacks also watch put older cuts they will make u want to avoidpaper products all together kein spass!!

Christian said...

This reminds of of a similar story that happened to me, only it involved a sharp piece of obsidian and my fist. And lots of blood.

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