Bagels and Scalpels

Yesterday was a less-than-stellar day.

I had (and still have) a headache that was born of the fires of hell, and saw fit to crawl into my skull and torture me long before my descent into said fires. (Which I do hope shall never become a reality. Hell sounds like it WOULDN’T be great fun.)

But that wasn’t the WHOLE start of my day.

I woke up a little late, as is my usual bad habit, and got ready quickly. I had a minute and a half to grab some food for lunch, as I had forgotten to pack one the night before, and school lunches are simply foul.

I grabbed a yogurt, a bagel, and some cream cheese for lunch. I quickly tossed some plastic cutlery in there and called it good. (I know, I know. Not that great of a lunch. Sue me, I was in a hurry.)

I ran out the door and prepared for some good ol’ family friendly fun: school.

I took some ibuprofen and tried to ignore the stabbing in my skull. I talked to my friends and went to Choir, my first period class. It was okay, except for the couple times I felt vaguely like fainting. But I drank water and was fine.

Time for second period: Biology. One of my least favorite classes, second only to Math. (Don’t get me wrong; I like my teachers. Just … math and science aren’t my thing, okay?)

I was super excited yesterday, though. We were finishing up a dissection lab. We were only dissecting flowers to get used to the instruments until the animals came, but, I mean, come on! It was so cool. Also, using instruments with names like “scalpel” and “forceps” and “angled probe” makes me feel like a surgeon.

So, my friend and I finished our lab and started cleaning everything up. I cleaned the scalpel (heh heh, I’m a surgeon) and went to put it in its little sheath-type-thing. (My surgeon-ness is somewhat diminished by that description, I know.)

But, apparently, my depth perception is a tad off. I was holding the sheath in my left hand, and the scalpel in my right. I moved the scalpel to put it into the sheath. But, instead of putting it into the sheath … I put it into my finger.

It wasn’t deep, okay? Like, barely a graze. I was fiiiine. I wouldn’t have even noticed it had happened unless I had seen it bleeding a little.

“Oh,” I said. “And that, children, is why I will never be a surgeon.”

I quickly washed my hands to make sure nothing got in it and the bleeding stopped super fast. It was just a scratch, anyway. It was still kind of a bummer, though.

I went to third period (Math) and fourth period (History), and then it was time for lunch. Oh, glorious lunch!

You need some backstory before I tell this part of the story. I never eat breakfast on school mornings. I always feel vaguely sick in the mornings, and never want food. I also believe that anytime before 9:00 am is too early for anyone to be stirring, and FAR too early to think of petty things like food.

So, by the time lunch rolls around at about noon, I’m pretty decently hungry. I got my lunch out of the students’ fridge. I ate my yogurt and grabbed my bagel.

My friend wanted a bite, so I let her start putting the cream cheese on it. That was when I noticed something on my bagel that was NOT meant to be there.

Little spots. Slightly fuzzy, with a green tint to them. My heart sank a little bit.

Noooo … not the bagel. Anything but the bagel. I was too hungry to lose the bagel.

I looked a little closer. My eyes hadn’t been deceiving me, like I so sorely wished they had. There was mold on the bagel.

I quickly stopped my friend from eating it and threw it away, my heart sinking as I did so.

I sat and watched my friends eat their delicious-looking lunches for a while, then decided I should go in search of some form of sustenance.

The staff room! My mom was in the staff room! Surely, she would have something.

I went to the mysterious cave of teachers. They were sitting around the table, talking, much like I did with my friends. That was odd. It was almost like teachers were humans, too.

I shook off my shock and went to my mother. I explained to her my plight, but my heart sunk when I noticed that all she had was a salad. I couldn’t take her salad from her.

I left, still foodless. I distracted myself from my hunger my talking loudly and oddly to my friends. (Who am I kidding, that’s how I always talk to my friends. But whatever.)

I finished my classes for the day and left with my mom. At this point, I was pretty sure my stomach was actually going to eat itself.

My mother, being an angel sent from heaven (contrasting nicely with the demon sent from hell that has crawled into my skull) stopped on the way home and bought me a banana, poppy seed muffin, and a bag of Chili Cheese Fritos that she shared with me. (Chili Cheese Fritos, by the way, are amazing.)

So this story does have a semi-happy ending. Sure, I had a terrible headache, but I still learned some stuff. Sure, I stabbed myself in the finger with a scalpel, but it was clean. Sure, my bagel was moldy, but I got Chili Cheese Fritos.

My headache was even worse today, but I think it’s getting better. I figured since I was home all day, I should tell you guys the story, because it IS kinda funny.

Be nice, keep being awesome, and have fun doing life, because life is fun if you make it that way.

(And you guys all know the liking, commenting, sharing, following jazz. Do if you wanna, don’t if you don’t.)

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