So, about two weeks ago I caught my left hand ring finger in a drawer pull and did something horrible to it. Possibly snapping the tendon or breaking a bone Not sure which but it is has been a a splint ever since and I have come to the following realizations:
- Never do housework: you will inevitably break/destroy some part of your body. (Previously I broke a wrist by falling off a chair while…wait for it, dusting.)
- All ten fingers seem needed in varying everyday simple tasks, all the time.
Since I excel at complaining, this has been a “Larry David” opportunity to do so, at every possible moment. Simple tasks, like typing or feeding the dog, take twice as long. Grrr… But one of my lovely colleagues at work, who, it turns out, had also had such a finger injury (most likely not from a drawer pull) advised me to take the event as a chance to meditate on one’s actions, to cultivate mindfulness. Hmm… well, begrudgingly I admit he has an excellent point After all, will kvetching make it heal quicker? Most likely not. (–Although awesome if that actually worked, eh?)
So, for six (gulp) more weeks [six–if I am lucky…] I must deal with this minor problem. Given the state of the world and the real problems with which people must deal, I would be wise to be silent… and perhaps a bit more mindful. I have my eyes on those drawer pulls, malevolent little objects that they are.