You ever have one of those moments where you say something and then wish you could suck all the words back in? How about when you do something so stupid that you just wish life had a rewind button? Okay, well, apparently, I picked category number two to participate in today.

See, I went out to get dinner for Joe and myself, and planned to get sodas from the vending machine before I came upstairs. Joe told me over the phone that he'd throw the money down for me off of the balcony. I said I'd get a quarter in my eye! I thought he was just joking about the idea. Then he said he was serious, he'd just put it in a baggie and toss it down to me. Okay, why not, right?

I got home, called Joe to let him know I was downstairs, and in just a minute I saw him on our balcony, a few floors up from me. The giant tree outside the building looked like it might get in the way, so I told Joe, "Be sure to aim more this way!"

Well, Joe aimed perfectly, as the baggie of quarters came sailing towards me. So perfectly in fact, that they were coming right at me. So what did I do? Did I take a step back? Did I move over to the side? Did I even cover my face with my hands or something? No. No, I did not. I reached up and tried to catch it! I tried to catch a baggie FULL OF QUARTERS in MY HAND that had just fallen SEVERAL STORIES!

As pain shot through my fingers and my whole hand exploded in pins and needles, I thought, "WHY, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WHY DID I JUST DO THAT?!?!"

I'll never have a good answer to that question. The sad thing is it would have been a great catch if, say, I'd had a catcher's mit or something. My bare hands, dude. What... WHAT was I thinking?

Poor Joe was so worried. "Did I hit you? Where did it hit you??"

"My hand," I called up.

He paused. "You didn't try to catch it... did you?"

"Yep," I said, taking deep breaths.

"WHY?"

"Because I'm an idiot," I said matter-of-factly. I took a few deep breaths and said cheerily, "Okay, I'll go get the sodas!"

I was trying to give off an air of "I'm fine and dandy here!" even though I was mildly concerned I might have broken my hand. I felt really stupid all the way to the vending machines and back to the apartment. But then I realized telling myself I'm an idiot over and over is not really a healthy thing for my self esteem, you know? So I changed it to, "Wow, I did a stupid thing that I'll nevereverever do again."

By the time I got upstairs, I was ready to laugh about it. Joe was still concerned and took a look at my hand. Then he kissed my palm, because he is sweet! He made sure I could move all my fingers, which I could, and he told me to put my hand on ice for ten minutes. Then we laughed about it a little bit. He kept saying, "I can't believe you tried to catch it!" to which I responded, "I know!"

After putting my hand on ice as Joe suggested, it seems much better. It's not red or swollen anymore, but it still hurts. I think it's bruised on the inside. I rarely ever bruise visibly, so my hand is not likely to turn all kinds of crazy colors. It's sort of a shame really, because I always think, well, if I'm hurting, I should at least be able to see some sign of an injury! This time, though, it's okay. I don't need a reminder of what a dork I was. Something tells me I'll have this memory etched into my brain for quite a while.