Stigmata, you’re doing it wrong!

Now, I’ve heard of the concept of having blood on one’s hands.. But I’ve never really heard of the opposite, having blood on one’s feet.. Never the less that’s what happened to me when I awoke this morning at the crack of noon after an otherwise nice and soothing spell of sleep.. At first I thought I’d been somehow stigmatized over night, but due to a general lack in the faith had decided to bleed from my ankles rather than my wrists. I did, however quickly decide that this was a silly suggestion and a more reasonable explanation would be that I’d simply walked around too much in poor shoes and as a result had earned myself another pair of bloody blisters on my heels.

This explanation would also adequately explain my inability to walk properly while at work the night before.. Needless to say, waking up with blistered and bloody ankles does complicate life a little. Especially when, owing to other unsuspected and downright bizarre twist of events, you have to cover an extra, understaffed night at work that very night due to the fact that one colleague has a job interview i Bulgaria and another an important meeting with a bishop.. No, I kid you not.. Those were the official reasons I was given.

Either way, the prospect of going to work and walking around more on two messed up ankles didn’t actually seem like a lot of fun at the time.. And knowing from experience that I’m generally not very good at taking care of myself or fixing things, I did the only thing I could think of in my situation: Logged on to MSN, found Tina and went “Tinaaaaaa? I went and did hurt to myself again.. What do I do now?!” Tina, presumably after a bit of head-shaking, suggested I went on down the pharmacy asked them for band-aids made for blisters and furthermore asked them what to do.. A seemingly simple solution but one that I, given my aversion for so many things in life including self-care, doctors and logic, probably would have never thought of myself.

So, while I shudder to admit it publicly, I did exactly what she said, went on down to the pharmacy and got some soothing patches and what have you designed for blisters – I even listened to the instructions I was given.. And followed them! And they helped! I of course felt so proud that I had to immediately inform Tina who, in turn could also not help but express her proudness of my actions as well.. Which might sound a little weird, but given my history of NOT really listening properly, not doing what I was told, and NOT taking care of myself.. Well, it actually sorta made sense that both her and I would be proud of me.

In the end, the plan worked too. The patches and band-aids helped soothe the pain and protect the blisters, allowing me to actually walk to work and walk around at work, too, in whatever limited ways I was allowed by my colleagues who’d been a little unsettled by my limping and whimpering the previous night.. It all actually went a hell of a lot smoother than I’d dared hope for.. But I was still extremely happy when Tina dropped me a text at midnight saying that she was out driving anyways and suggesting she picked me up; which led my colleagues to mumble something or other about me being a severely spoiled human being – which I could, of course, only agree with (adding that I knew fully well that they were just jealous).. But then, that’s how I roll..

So, Tina showed up about five minutes later to pick me up, right around the time when my legs decided that they were actually pretty damn tired and would rather not work more for the evening.. How’s that for good luck? I honestly don’t know what I’d do without this girl.. But anyways, she then proceeded to drive me home, drop me off and leave my body to apparently cement the lines uttered above by sending me tumbling down the stairs leading down to my front door.. Where I was mercifully caught by the wall before I could do too much damage to myself.

Lovely, eh? I rely on Tina for the entire day for help, advice and assistance.. And the one time she leaves me on my own to fend for myself.. For ten fucking feet.. I stumble, fall and screw up majorly. I hope that somehow makes up for all the times I’ve supposedly insulted her intelligence, twisted events and made her look silly.. As it obviously shows how much I rely on her and  hopefully lost I am without he 😉 Oh, and I have a feeling this gonna be used against me a lot in the time to come.. But in the interest of a fair, balanced view – it’s now out there.

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