TMill 0 , Hedge-trimmer 1

So, I'm supposed to read this book for 9th grade summer reading. I set up shop outside on the deck, grabbed a coffee and began reading. The reading was going so awesomely that i decided to trim my hedges instead.

In the earlier hours of the morning my hedges were sporting the side-show bob look.

Unfortunately, the road to trimness was not without casualty. As I manicured the fourth of five hedges lining the north side of my house, I hit a rough spot. There stood a twig, fatter than his brothers, hindering my trimming. So, like any strong midwestern lass, i wasn't about to let the branch win. I squatted down and starting taking whacks at the branch. Soon-- it fell. I won.

Then I moved on to my last shrub. Things were looking great-- I was almost done when, again-- I ran into a freak-tasticly fat branch that froze up my electric hedge trimmer.

Again-- squat down and hack -- hack -hack -- nothing. I apply more force-- hack hack -- oops-- hedge trimmer comes up a bit to high and now my finger's a bleedin. alot.

I drop the trimmer and pull my finger back so quickly that blood splatters all over my face. I then move my hand out as far from my body as possible noticing the death of my new white tank top. finally i make it to the bathroom and there I run my finger under water and bandage it with gauze left over from penny's toenail incident.

done.

now lets return to my day- i still have to read that awesome book-- so i go back outside -- I finish my trimming and rake up my mess.

the bushes look nice and clean-- like leafy ice cream cones. no more sideshow bob business.

an hour passes-- my finger still bleeds.

another hour passes -- i undo the bandage and see that the cut is still bleeding.
ok i better call mom.

ring ring--no answer

ehh -- it's just a cut. I go online and learn i should hold the cut up over my heart to help stop bleeding. now i'm walking around pledging allegiance to everything in my path. mom calls -- tells me to go see the urgent care. I call the healthcare plan -- they tell me i have to drive out to robbinsdale - i call robbinsdale and they tell me to drive out to plymouth. so, nearly 4 hours after the cut i find myself feeling like a wuss sitting in the waiting room of north clinic in plymouth.

I go in-- they weigh me (wii fit has yet to help me lose my 4 lbs). the dr looks at the cut and tells me i need stitches.

Cool.

so i got me four crusty stitches. now instead of pledging allegiance to all in my path, it sorta looks like i'm flippin everyone the bird.

ben's never going to let me live this down.