Another reason why I'm (not?) charming

I feel my friend base is so used to my personality flaws that I forget to tame myself around the general public.

Case in point:

Today I was pretty swamped at work. Everything is breaking, technology-wise, meaning the printer won't work, the photocopier jams, and applications on the computer decide to stop performing properly.

Nothing puts me in a foul mood faster than broken technology; especially when the office I work in lacks anyone hired to be tech support.

ESPECIALLY when other people try to offer unwarranted help, because I AM tech support, and I have outrageous amounts of pride with these issues.

ANYWAY OKAY SOOOOOO,

I am feeling pretty high strung today, and I'm filing away a bunch of papers.

The paralegal, Darin, is trying to print things on the printer that I stole from him, so I now have even less space around my desk than usual, and in the midst of all the commotion, I manage to paper-cut the front of my middle finger.

UGH! Its pretty big.

Cue typical Peter Griffin "AHHHHH. AHHHHHHhhhhhh," noises while I clutch my finger.

Darin goes "Are you okay?"

--- This is all pretty typical, I know.

I quickly shut up my whining, let go of my finger to inspect the damage, and say "Yep. Ah here it comes,"

and before I know what I'm doing I'm squeezing the area around my paper cut to make it bleed.

(Am I the only one that does that? I have a fascination with my own injuries.)

(I'm only doing this to assess the definite size of the paper-cut, its hard to tell if it isn't bleeding!)

Darin kind of stares in amazement.

But wait, it gets better,

I grab a pen and make two little eyes with eyebrows above my paper-cut, so it looks like an angry face with a set of red lips.

I put my pen down and get back to work.

And for a moment, life is zen, until I look up and Darin is still staring at me.

"Oh god, did I really just do that?" I say. Rhetorical question.

"BUT I MEAN, don't you sometimes poke your bruises because its fun the way they hurt?" I ask. Rhetorical question.

"I can't believe how strange I am," I say. No response needed.

Darin looks at me.

He says

"Yep."

And walks away.