ouch.

My mother in law is coming into town today, and so I cleared my schedule yesterday to give myself enough time to clean the apartment. Our apartment has gotten quite messy, what with our busy schedules and our general apathy toward tidiness (I grew up with a microbiologist-- it takes a lot more than things growing fur to gross me out). So cleaning away I went, and I got a lot done. Bobby took the car to work instead of biking since I didn't anticipate needing it, and I realized after he left that my phone was in the car. Ah, well, without the phone, I can't be distracted from cleaning, right?

So with the living room clean, the kitchen scrubbed, and the dining room reorganized, it was 3:00 and I was ready to start on the dishes. We have no dishwasher, unless you count me, so they tend to pile up. I've gotten pretty fast at doing the dishes, and they don't gross me out like they do Bobby, so I'm okay with doing them. As I unveiled the piles of pans and bowls, I found where all of our glasses were. It seems we never have any, which is odd, since we bought 10 of them. There they were, in the bottom of the sink. I thought about how odd it was that we had yet to break one, and still we could never seem to have any clean in the cupboard.

As I was scrubbing out the inside of one, the top broke and my hand started shooting blood out of the area where the outside of my pinky meets my hand. I immediately shoved it under the stream of running water, and went to the drawer to grab a clean dish towel. Suddenly, all of what was convenient was no longer such. I had no phone to call my husband, and no car to get to an ER to get stitched up. I felt the symptoms of shock, and perhaps it was because of the lightheadedness that I wasn't thinking clearly. I put on my husband's flip flops and decided I would walk two miles to the bikeshop if my neighbors upstairs weren't home. I knocked on their door, called their name, and no one answered. I felt like I was going to throw up, and kept picturing the glass going into my hand and all the blood that came out, and didn't know if I could make it to the bikeshop. Just then, I heard keys going into the lock on the door behind me, and in walked Bobby.

"How'd you know to come home?!?" I showed him the cut, and off to the ER we went. 11 stitches later, I am so glad his manager decided to send Bobby home because he wasn't feeling well.

Kinda freaks me out how much Heavenly Father is looking out for me. Between that and having my bike accident right when two off duty paramedics were driving by, I wonder what the Lord has in store for me.