continued on pain of Julie attackegg

So yesterday I managed to be very very dumb and burn myself on the toastie machine. I got to watch the blister form under the tap it was pretty freakin cool let me tell you, only at the time I was not a happy kitty. Julie came through to enquire after her dinner and found me with my hand in a cup of water sobbing like a big girl. She was all iffy and hovering around until I showed her that I had in fact hurt myself.

"Thank god. Thought it was emotions." she proceeded to pat my head and call me a big wuss. "I mean sometimes I'm so tough I just stick my whole face in the machine, for laughs." It was her way of showing she cared. So after it stopped hurting quite so much my mum bundled me up and dragged me down to the pharmacist so three pharmacists could inspect me. They weren't patronising or anything but it was still pretty daft. Was like when I was in primary school. I always hated going to the office and showing them my skint knees. It's like I'm really just letting someone else tell me that yes, you have hurt yourself, silly girl. Don't make it worse. I'm being careful as hell. I mean I burn myself quite often, just little ones. 1st degree since Julie was so keen to tell me that my finger is 2nd degree burned.

"1st degree=red line. 2nd degree=blister. 3rd degree=FACE FALL OFF. In fact Catherine we best cut your finger off now just in case."

Julie also checked on me while I slept to make sure I didn't lie on my hand. So sweet right?

Well until she remembered I'd promised to bake her some cookies this week.

"When you gonna get in the kitchen and make me a tasty snack, bitch?" It was difficult, shall we say, but I managed it although I didn't even attempt to crack eggs with a finger out of commission.