Two New Lows

So, two events occurred last week that propelled me to newer and higher heights (or lows). Unfortunately, these were, of course, new heights of wussiness and absent-mindedness.

Wussiness:

I injured myself playing the piano.

Twice.

You see, I got really, really, really, really bored one day (this was during Valentine’s week, and I live in Winters, so that probably had something to do with it). Well, it seems to me as though I am my most creative when I am bored and depressed. So, I decided to try my hand a writing a song (something I haven’t tried to do since the first grade).

I sat down at the piano, and frankly, I’m proud of my new piano composition. (It’s currently untitled, by the way. My current plan is to wait around until I have a girlfriend, and I’ll tell her I wrote it for her and name it after her. Heck, it’s a piano piece; it can be named anything.) You won’t hear it on the radio anytime soon. I’ll admit that it’s only a passable piece. But I’m going to admit to my repertoire, and I think it’ll fit in well enough.

So, back to my story, I got sort of into what I was doing, and when I stopped playing after about an hour and a half, I realized that my right thumb was swollen. Really, really swollen. Almost as swollen as I was bored.

Turns out, my right thumb nail had either been broken off or had been cut sort of funny. The left side of the nail was kind of squarish, and so while I played, it had just been jammed over and over again into the skin (the song has a lot of loud banging at the end). I was basically creating an ingrown fingernail by playing.

The next morning, I woke up to find the thumb still swollen. I cut the nail way back, to reveal a cut and an infection. I even had to bandaid the thing the next at work.

After a couple of days, I could play again, and so I did so, trying to fine tune the song. I got to that part that had nearly killed me before, and my nail, this time, pretty much split in two. I’m not sure if this means I should stop playing the song, or if it’s just so awesome that my fingers are unworthy to play it. I’ll pretend the latter.

Absent-Mindedness:

I put my shirt on before school, and something felt funny. I just figured it was sort of twisted, though, and would work itself out. I bent down to put on my socks and shoes (pants were already on) and did so. Then, I stood up and realized that the shirt still felt a little funny. Twisting didn’t fix it.

I walked into the next room to look at it in the mirror, and the problem was fairly obvious. I had put my shirt on backwards. That’s something that happens.

Here’s the real problem though: It was a polo shirt.

At least it wasn’t a button-up.