draliman on life

I had a clumsy day yesterday. First I cut my finger open on a can of chili, then I dropped a jar of black-current jam in my dessert.

But back to the finger. Three first aid boxes in the house, and could I find a plaster? Nope. Not one single plaster in the whole house. Loads of bandages, no plasters. I had to go out to the car, in the rain, kitchen towel wrapped around my finger. There I found two more first aid kits, both with plasters in.

Why do I have five first aid kits, you ask? Well, that’s not important right now. Maybe I have a thing for first aid kits. The important question is “Why were there no plasters in the house, only in the car?” What was going through my mind when I made that choice, if a conscious choice it was?

“If I accidentally cut my finger in the house, I’ll wrap a massive bandage around it, this disabling my entire hand. But if I’m out in the car and witness an accident, and if I’m not frozen in shock and manage to help, I’m sure the very thing to stop an arterial bleed is a sticking plaster.”

There are now plasters in the house and the car. And bandages too.