Losing a Piece of Myself Is Traumatizing

I was feeling culinarily adventurous (is that even a word?) yesterday. After considering the hot weather and an abundance of produce in the fridge, I decided upon cold soba noodle salad. To save some time, I went against my better judgment and brought out the mandolin slicer to get the nice julienne-cut for all the vegetables. I made another even bigger mistake after that: I got relaxed. It wasn't long before I sliced a small portion of my pinky off. As my future depends on having ten functional fingers, I naturally panicked at first. I shook in trepidation as I examined the damage done to my right pinky. The verdict: I can still play. An enormous wave of relief broke through my fear, freeing me to head to the cabinet for some First Aid. [sigh]
First chance I get, I am throwing that slicer away.

Winding Down from a Busy Weekend

I think church musicians are some of the only people in the world who can sincerely say: Thank God for Monday.

ugh.

Oh Heavenly Night

We met outside the store last night. At first, I felt I had seen you somewhere before and struggled to remember when and under what circumstances. I jolted to full attention when I realized who you were: my first love. You smiled your invitation to stroll around the block together, and I smiled back affirmatively. We talked of many things--those prerequisite inquiries into what the other had done these past years. You finally broached the one question quietly lurking behind every topic we discussed earlier: Have you found someone? I stammered my usual replies to this--I've been too busy, I'm not really looking, etc. Without missing a beat, you looked deeply into my eyes and unabashedly confessed I'm still in love with you. Liquid fire and ice raced through my veins as I gazed back and shyly admitted the same. Beaming, you turned to face the sidewalk in front of us and moved your left hand a little closer to my right as we continued walking down the dimly-lit street. Together.