My left ring finger started to hurt and then swell yesterday. I wonder if it is some sort of sign from God. A judgment, perhaps? Am I being punished for being picky? For being clumsy? Did I knock my finger against something hard enough to jam it, but not hard enough for me to feel it happen?
It still hurts for me to try to bend it, and the swelling increased slightly today. I bore my wound proudly all day, randomly flexing my fingers. Ow, ow. I am not brave enough to do things that would injure me on a daily basis, and I spend the time to honor each bruise and sore muscle. (I'm pathetic; I knew this already. Shut up.)
My desire to show off my wound led me, this morning, to try to cheer up a Spanish II classmate while we waited outside a locked classroom for a professor we both weren't fond of.
I whipped out my bruised and swollen finger.
She gazed upon it, with slack-jawed awe.
"It distracted you, didn't it?" I smugly asked.
She laughed. "Yes, it did."
"But you're not impressed?" I guessed.
She hesitated. "Well ... I jammed my thumb ... " She trailed off as she pulled back her coat sleeve to reveal an over-sized red thumb that could possibly have been mistaken for a third arm.
Basketball players. Pshaw.
I quickly drew my sweater back over my own hand.
"Okay," I said. "You win!"
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