Keep All Sharp, Pointy Objects AWAY!

So I've decided that razors, broken glass and other sharp objects do not like me. I think they search me out to hurt me on purpose. My latest injury to add to my collection is broken glass from a wine glass on the floor. The intelligent thing for a person to do when they break a glass is to do a methodical sweep of the floor to remove any microscopic pieces. My father did not do this however. And I found the shard just waiting for my foot. Actually it either was several tiny pieces or one big one that became tiny pieces as it entered my foot. After having my mom dig at the pieces for several minutes during which I was cringing, screaming, and crying, yes crying there is still a piece stuck in my foot and I've resigned myself to just let it stay there. Again there's the whole they'll have to put me under to get it out thing. I bled something terrible. There was a trail all the way to my bathroom upstairs, across carpet. Yeah, I had to break out the peroxide to clean it up. It was just lovely. I'm being very bold on Friday. I'm attempting substituting at the public high school. It's for an assistant band director so it isn't going to be too difficult. I mean there's only three or four band classes total and I know she doesn't have the top band so it really isn't going to be too awful. And even though I was in band there, I know they aren't going to expect me to actually conduct or anything like that. I'll probably have to show a movie or something, or even better, one of the other directors will do all the conducting and I won't really have to do a thing. Honestly, if the school district was smart they wouldn't waste money for a sub position like that. I could be used elsewhere. Oh well! Their loss, my gain.