Slices of life.

I stepped on a Ninja today, and paid dearly with my heel.

I love dramatic sentences.  I was poking around in the pantry looking for pecans for Irv's rum Father's Day cake, and was about to overbalance. I stepped down with my full weight on my left leg, behind me, and stepped hard on the blade of the food processor.  The cut is deep, through the pad of my heel, and over an inch long, curving up around the side of my foot.  It's bad, but not life altering.  I can't put weight on that heel, or else it pops open and bleeds more. The things I hate:  Launching into an asthma attack moments after it happened. Extreme pain caused me to be shocked.  That was scarier and worse than the actual injury, which is just a cut.  The other thing I hate is people making a big fuss.  It's a fucking cut. Yes, it's on my foot, yes I'm diabetic, but I can take care of myself, and it doesn't slow me down.  I hopped up, after the asthma subsided, and the bleeding went away, cleaned it, bandaged it, and went on with my day.  No fuss. I hate the fuss.

I was thinking about friends, the other day.

It's nice to barbecue with friends, and have them cook the steak just like you like it, without really even asking...because that's how they like it.  That's chemistry at work.  People watching with friends, sitting in comfortable silence, that really is comfortable. Speaking in codes only you understand. Whole conversations without saying a word, just some elbow nudges and looks.  Sometimes I feel so hermity and introverted, but sometimes, I really need people.

I've been reveling in friends, and friendships lately.