This past weekend I was out in New York City. After a long night of drinking I was stumbling back to my hotel room around 5am.
Times Square in the wee hours of the morning - no one is around.
I decided to run across the street before the creepy guy behind me who kept yelling at me to 'slow down lady' got too close to me. BAM, I fell so hard on the street, my knees hit first and then my face. It was like the scene in The Wedding Planner when her shoe gets stuck and she doesn't know what to do as a taxi is approaching does she save her shoe or get hit by a car? ...well, here I was laying face down on the street, my brand new phone fell (I didn't get insurance for it) and a taxi is coming...will he see me? I have on a black jacket and dark jeans. Will he run over my new phone? What to do in just a few seconds, and being drunk doesn't help my reasoning. I grab the phone and manage to get up as the taxi swerves around me. I stumble into the hotel. I knew my knee was bleeding. I pass out fully dressed on my bed.
The next morning I realize that my nice size 8 jeans that I've barely worn have a nice size whole in them and are stuck to my skin.
and my knee is a bit banged up.but what I don't realize because I was way too hung over was that the fibers of my jeans and bits of street were in my wound. I throw a band aid on and head down to work. But my wound seeps liquid. The next day I have nasty puss oozing out...crap it is infected. I can handle the slight pain and discomfort, but I have a hard time actually cleaning it. I am left wondering, if I can't clean my own wound, how can I care for a child's issues? Perhaps motherhood isn't in my future.
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