The Time I Almost Chopped off My Finger

  Well luck be a lady tonight because it’s actually a miracle that I’m sitting here and typing this blog with all ten fingers. Just days ago I almost chopped off my finger in a cheese grating incident gone awry. My roommate left for the weekend and I celebrated my independence by whipping up a professional omelette in my underwear. Like all the top chefs do when they’re home alone. While I mostly just chop up chunks of cheese and throw them on my eggs, I decided to play a game of Top Chef in my kitchen. I took out my mandolin slicer and began to create cheese perfection. I turned up my music and for some reason confused myself with some kind of character in a montage scene from Julie & Julia. In fact, I got so into the slicing that cut right through my finger. And holy mother of god did it hurt. Blood gushed everywhere and I closed my eyes in order to avoid the carnage. Then I remembered it was my carnage and I had to clean it up. So I opened my eyes, saw my finger tip and nail in the slicer and almost fainted. Until I once again reminded myself that I had to play triage all by myself. I absolutely could not pass out in my underwear from a cut. And especially not while the stove was on. How embarrassing would that be? To die for a cheese grating incident…looking like a poverty-stricken chef.  My parents probably wouldn’t even come to my funeral they’d be so ashamed. They’d be all like, “in lieu of flowers, please send bags that we can wear over our heads!!!” So I wrapped my finger in a towel, cleaned the missing part of my finger out of the grater and held it together long enough to google “cut tip of my finger off, what to do now?” Google advised going to the emergency room, making me realize that “cut tip off my finger” might be a more severe injury than I have.  Rather than throwing up and mourning my missing finger parts, I took the mature route — and texted the above photo to everyone I know. There’s no point getting injured if you can’t have a million people text back, “what happened!?”

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