I suppose that people who are employed in a typically dangerous line of work might come home with things like "shark-bites" or "infectious diseases." I'm sure that's very traumatizing for them and whatnot, but hey, at least they get a good story out of it. Provided that they survive the experience, I suppose. I, on the other hand, am routinely injured at work in what is possibly both the most painful and the most unexciting way imaginable. I get papercuts. ALL the time. And while, usually, I think I average about one or two a week, I think I was assaulted by paper twelve times today at least.
Sometimes, I branch out a little into the realms of "cardboard cuts" or "plastic cuts," which are, believe it or not, worse. It's not unusual, at work, for someone to cry out in pain, and leave their machine to go get a band-aid out of the first aid kit. In fact, several months ago we ran out of band-aids, and I don't think they've been restocked yet. Today, I stopped an entire assembly line (I have a magical work stopping button) when I began to bleed profusely.
Let this be a lesson to you, kids. Don't work. Or, at least, choose a line of work where you can at least be hurt in an interesting way, and garner the proper sympathy.
No comments:
Post a Comment