18 April, 2005


Schematic diagram of my wound pattern. My labmate says my fingernail is sure to fall off.

I was 99.99933% out of the door. I had woken up in a timely fashion, bumbled around, taken a shower, eaten a bowl of cereal (no hard-boiled eggs today), had a bit of a good-morning with my roommates, found my kung-fu pants. I was good to go.

Unfortunately, that other 0.00067%, the part that wasn't quite out the door, happened to be the tip of my left middle finger.

In the aftermath of this incident I sat around and chatted with the roommates (we were having one of those celestial convergences), and ended up sharing some good finger-smashing stories. Mostly involving car doors.

So let's hear your damaged-digit stories. The bloodier and pulpier, the better.

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