Well, that is no longer the case, since I seem to have removed most of the flesh from my middle toe in a bizarre, freakish shaving accident.
"How?" you might ask. Well. We have a little set of shelves in the far end of our shower. Every day for many, many months, Forest shaves in that shower, placing his Gillette Mach3 Razor of Death on the middle white shelf, along with my relatively harmless ladies' version.
Several times in the past few months, I've knocked into the thing, causing it to fall on the bathtub floor. Usually, I nimbly hop out of the way, and avoid having any of my appendages severed by the diving razor of death. (I'm convinced this is why they call it the "Mach3".)
Last night, however, was different. We didn't get out of Tae Kwon Do until 11:30 at night, having stayed ridiculously late trying to work sidekicks. We stumbled to the van, and Forest went to visit his friends, while I went home. Initially I really wanted to go with him, just to spend time with him, but he planned to stay out late, and thought I should get some sleep. The deal was that I would go home and sack out, he would wake me when he got home, and we'd take a nice hot shower together, and enjoy each other's company.
By 12:30 I was dead to the world on the couch. He came home at 3 AM, woke me up with snuggles, and while I enjoyed his company, I had a hard time waking up. Nonetheless, we both needed a shower, so we plodded into the bathroom and started scrubbing. In my drowsy 3 AM state, I was not even aware of the location of the Mach3 razor of certain demise, and didn't notice its murderous descent until it had already sliced my toe and I found myself shouting profanities.
The thing bled so much that Forest made me get out of the shower and gauze it. It went through three gauze pads before it decided to stop gushing, but I wasn't really awake enough to care.
So the moral of the story is, don't shower with sharp (homicidal) objects when you aren't alert enough to avoid the hazards. I have learned my lesson.
Forest has a cold. He's been miserable since he got back from Chicago because of it, except when he's exercising. (Behold, the power of endorphins.) He's been okay out in public, but by the time he gets home, he's a sniffly, sneezy, grumbly, groggy, cranky poor bunny who just wants to go to sleep. I feel bad for pestering him for attention at the end of the day, but I'm afraid it's getting to that point where I'd really like to spend time with him, just the two of us, when he's coherent and in the mood for fun. I guess I can't really expect that while he's sick.
There goes that patience thing again.
I'm starving today, but don't want fast food, so I just might decide to suffer through until dinner time, whenever that may be. After work today I'm going to go help out at Forest's family's ice cream store (henceforth referred to as The Store). The weather is so nice here all of the sudden that they'd like to open as soon as possible, and are scrambling about, organizing things, storing things, and cleaning things like mad. I'm not sure what I think about Forest's schedule to come. He's still planning to work 19 hours per week at MSU, teach Tae Kwon Do 2 nights per week, and work 40 hours at The Store. I don't know how he's going to make all of that work, and I'm deeply afraid that I'll never see him. I wish he didn't have to work so much. He hates that job at MSU, and I still think if we looked over the bills together, we wouldn't need as much cash as we currently perceive we do. I've been making some pretty extreme money-decisions lately without getting to talk to him about it, and I don't feel like that's really fair. For instance, I'm about to pay off one of my student loans early, because I threw extra money at it for the past few months. Maybe he wouldn't be working this crazy schedule if he knew that extra cash was around, and I had the option not to write it over to MSU.
How many times have I written in here that he and I really need to talk about money? I think last time I mentioned that we should start tracking expenses a bit, to see where it's all going. Well, we never did that. It's really starting to irritate me. I have only recently come to understand that Forest is used to working alot. Apparently the part when we first started dating and he only worked 40 hours weekly was some sort of fluke, and he usually works closer to 60. But you know, I really liked that fluke. I liked that he had time for me, and we could go for a long walk most nights if we wanted to, or just hang around the house and play with each other. Sometimes I get the feeling that there just isn't room in his life for someone like me. On the contrary, he says I'm the most important thing to him... so I have to assume he's working so much because he feels like he has to. I've told him many times, I really don't think that's so.
Maybe he just does it because it's what he's used to doing. I don't know.
Anyhow, I think I have avoided work for long enough today. Public Health is sticky.
