Night of the Living Dead

This is Post #8 in my 30-Day Blog Variety Show - A Moment.

I definitely had a bit of a moment today while taking out the trash after snack:

If you've seen me in the tweets, you've probably guessed by now that I am more than a little enthused about healthy living (You probably wouldn't guess it just looking at me, *pats stomach* but I'm working on restoring myself to my former glory. *lol*), and that includes cleanliness.

So what do I manage to do while putting the bag in the dumpster?

Scrape the skin off my arm right above the bend of my elbow on a rusty piece of trashcan metal.

O.M.G.

I couldn't freak out because I'm a big, tough stud...or whatever, but I was panicking a little on the inside because - Well, shit. Because I don't like tetanus, tetanus shots, or pus-ing, oozing, discolored infections on my person. Also, I am a reformed scab picker. I'm gonna blame that on my studhood, as well.

Anywho, I calmly made my way back inside and look around as I make my way back through the kitchen for something to disinfect it with. No such luck, but I know there's a big bottle of sanitizer in the other room. So I go out there, and who's pumping away at the sanitizer but Apples.

"Move, girl," I tell her. "I cut my arm on the dumpster."

She moves without protest when she hears that and informs me that she will have no choice but to put me out of my misery if I turn into a zombie as a result of my injury. (.__.  ) (Apples is as big of a fan of zombie movies and shows as she is of fruit. This is a love we do not share. :-/ )

So I slather my hands in sanitizer, then use my clean hands to slather my arm two or three times. When I got home, I washed it twice with antibacterial Dial liquid soap.

I'm okay now.