Either I really hate myself or knives just adore me.

Over the weekend, I helped with the kids' Rosh Hashanah service. A friend was asked to lead it and he asked for my help. Part of that help was cutting up apples (we eat apples and honey on Rosh Hashanah in hopes of a sweet new year). I've used the Pampered Chef apple cutting thing (which I highly recommend), so I was sorely out of practice when it came to using a knife for the task. Add to the fact that the rabbi's wife gave me the great big giant Friday the 13th quasi-machete type knife. Yeah, you see where this is going.

I cut my left pointer finger. It's not bad at all. It's more of a papercut than anything else, but it bothered me for quite a while.

Today, I cut up some chicken. I picked up the knife and had it aiming toward me. I actually thought, "This is a bad idea," but apparently, I have (unjustified) faith in myself.

Well, again, you see where this is going. I cut the same finger. The new cut is less than an inch below the last one. Oy!

This one bled like crazy and HURT. Again, it's not bad, just annoying.

So yeah, I cut myself with knives twice in one week. Both times on the exact same finger.

Wait, what's the definition of insanity? Isn't it something like "Repeating the same behavior and expecting different results." Oh hell. Should I start building my tinfoil hat now? Probably not. I bet the sharp edges on the box would attack me.