Stabbing Oneself With a Fork

On New Year’s day, in the evening I was preparing some brownie à la mode for Melinda and me to enjoy. Melinda had made the brownies the night before and the remaining brownies were still in their pan. They had firmed up in the refrigerator and I was having some difficulty dislodging the last few pieces from where they had stuck to the sides of the glass pan. Despite a brief thought that what I was about to do might be a bad idea, I gripped the side with my left hand and tried to apply more force to the fork with my right hand.

Naturally, I slipped and jammed the fork into the palm of my left hand impaling one of its tips into the flesh. It hurt quite a bit, but fortunately the wound wasn’t very deep. No blood shot out, but it did start oozing a fair bit and required a bandaid. Today, it is a little sore if I accidentally push against it. Fortunately, it’s on my left hand which doesn’t see as much use as my right hand. Looking at it now, I wonder if it will leave a visible scar – perhaps a faint mark underneath the skin. If so, then it will be a mate for a similar wound scar on my right hand.

One day when I was in elementary school, I accidentally knocked my pencil off my desk and in my rush to reclaim it before it could fall, I actually managed to impale the pencil’s tip into my right hand as the pencil had rotated such that the tip was aimed skyward and the eraser was just making contact with the floor as my open palm accelerated towards the fallen object. I think that one bled a little more. It also left a little graphite in my hand so that to this day you can see the faint greenish spot underneath the skin.

In my mind’s eye as a child, this greenish mark on my hand transformed into the friendly gaze of a sperm whale whose mighty jaw was formed by my pinky and ring finger while it’s head was formed by the rest of my hand with my thumb flattened against the palm.

As there was no graphite on the offending fork and as I suspect that brownie would be readily broken down and absorbed by my body, I rather doubt to see years from now a twin green eye on my left palm. But perhaps there will be a scarred tiny patch where the fork entered. Or perhaps not. The skin above the green spot on my right palm doesn’t appear different from any other are of my hand.

What factors determine whether or not a particular injury to the skin will cleanly heal leaving no visible trace? Obviously, a large wound leaves a visible scar, but are there factors besides wound size involved? As fascinating a question no doubt as any ever raised, but that’s what you get when you ramble on in an attempt to write 500 words on the thinnest of materials in anticipation of not having much time later to produce anything better.

Returning to Work

Getting up this morning was hard.

As is typical for me, it was actually easy to achieve consciousness – my dogs have me well trained to wake up around 7:45 no matter how late I went to sleep the evening before. What is always hard is the simple process of scraping myself off the mattress and starting the mechanical process of preparing for the returning to normalcy after a nice, long break.

My first struggle for the day was an internal one versus the little voice inside that whispered seductively how it would be so much easier if I just skipped exercise this morning. I have a month-to-month membership at a gym that is about five minutes from my house. I am trying to get into the habit of daily exercise in the morning before going into the office. I’ve been doing it on and off since November. One thing that always makes it a little hard to find proper motivation is that I have to drive (even if only for five minutes) to get to the gym. Instead of fighting a perhaps losing battle to get into the car, this morning, I decided to try out my wife’s treadmill desk. This substitution may very well have secured victory for me as the voice of temptation was very strong this morning.

While I prefer the treadmill at the gym with its slope adjustment and heart rate monitoring, the treadmill desk got the job done today and allowed me to get some exercise while I read some more Anna Karenina on my Kindle. I love how eReaders allow you to read under many conditions where in the past it ranged from difficult to impossible to get by with something as clumsy as a hardback or worse a paperback.

With my exercise accomplished, I showered and dressed before heading downstairs to prepare a simple breakfast of instant oatmeal and coffee for myself and a gluten-free breakfast bar and coffee for my wife. When I looked out the kitchen windows, I found myself again confronting a grey, uninviting day much like the one on the first of the year. Fortunately, it was no longer raining and this meant that little coaxing was required to get my dog Perrin to go outside in the backyard along side my other dog Doobie. Perrin seems almost terrified at the prospect of getting even a few drops of water on him. When he does get wet from a visit outdoors, afterwards, he comes back inside and immediately proceeds to rub himself against the couch as though he were a vampire trying to rub off the hateful burning influence of holy water.

After finishing breakfast, I packed up my things and prepared for the thirty minute car trip to the office. I decided to listen to some Nick Cave followed by a little classic Nine Inch Nails to wake me up.

It was an uncharacteristically quiet day at the office. While some people are still on vacation until next week, there are still plenty of people here. I think the stillness has more to do with everyone still adjusting from their holiday schedule to the normal office routine.

Tonight, I start a course called Computing for Data Analysis that is being offered via Coursera. I’m looking forward to it and hope that it will be a fun way to get better acquainted with the R language and its capabilities. It’s also a nice precursor to a second course that I’m taking towards the end of the month that will use R and focus more on the actual techniques of data analysis.

The Rainy Start to 2013

I really love Christmas time. I love the lights, the classic carols, the cinnamon and nutmeg coffee, the eggnog, and the ritual of putting up a Christmas tree in our house. It fills me with a deep joy every year as I look forward to taking a break from my job and being around my friends and family. It’s probably the one cultural tradition that I really connect with on an emotional level. It taps into so many pleasant nostalgic memories of Christmases past. And I cannot express how wonderful it is to simply disconnect from the daily concerns of my job (even though I rather enjoy my job on most days).

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