The other day I was out doing yard work and walked into the remains of a palm tree frond that protruded from the tree. It caught me in the middle of my forehead. I was the one who originally cut that frond back, and I did a bad job. So it was there to get me, knowing I would eventually wander back not looking where I was going.
I determined the resulting cut on my forehead wasn't deep enough to warrant stitches or a trip to the ER. Still, it bled, and might scar. It also swelled up a little, even down around the bridge of my nose. I had a slight headache, and iced the area for relief. Today I'm better.
Last night, though, I had an anxious fantasy that I would die from a brain bleed over night. Consequently I emailed a few of my favorite people telling them quite simply that I loved them. That's all. I'm such a drama queen. I was at peace when I went to sleep.
Happily, I woke up. Good thing, too, because I forgot to email my siblings.
