Monday, January 21, 2008

Bloody Hell

I was at work yesterday, and the potwasher hadn't yet turned up, so I decided to be helpful and get some washing up done. I picked up a plate and managed to hit it off a metal shelf, it broke and landed on my foot. There was a chorus of "didn't you want to wash that one Anna?" from the chefs in the kitchen, I laughed and cleaned up the mess.

Then I noticed something on the floor. Turned out my foot was bleeding, quite spectacularly, and a little pool of blood had appeared by my feet. I had a look at it, and could see the blood bubbling out of my sock. I decided I needed help, and called over one of the chefs.

"Shit" Hang on, I'll get something to try and stop it. I decided that it would probably be best to sit down, and try to stop it bleeding, the blood kept on coming, and started to drip from between my hands. By this point I had an audience and somebody handed me a towel which I promptly bled through. In the end it was when they were considering carrying me out to the car that I decided we should look at it again, and luckily it had stopped, we saw the wound. It was pathetic, a tiny puncture wound, it's hardly bruised today, so no sympathy for me. But I am the only person I know who has stabbed herself with a plate.

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