Bloody Match Maker

I don't think I match well today. Even thought about going out to buy a new shirt at lunch but I figured I could make it another four hours or so.

*****

In other news, I got a wicked bloody nose standing at a public counter earlier. Even times I've been wailed in the face with softballs or elbows and such I've never gotten a bloody nose. So one can imagine my level of surprise and unpreparedness. I thought at first it was just running and couldn't figure out why since I don't have a cold nor do I have allergies. After testing the area with the back, fleshy part of my hand that exists essentially between index finger and thumb I discovered the sanguinish secretions.

I wonder what caused it?

Worse, though, is that since I don't live in 1958 AND the thought of pocketing my own snot and then filling my washing machine with it disgusts me, I don't carry a handkerchief. Or even a Kleenix for that matter. While I'm not sure the clerk noticed, I excused myself in the middle of the transaction and went to the men's room to clean my face and hand. She probably thought I had a bad case of the runs or something and upon my return the exertion was no doubt evident by my damp, freshly washed face. For futher effect, I should have tucked the funny pages under my arm.

Anyway, it hadn't stopped at that point, but had slowed enough for me to return and finish up. Plus, I was now well-stocked with gritty public-bathroom toilet paper.

Its over an hour later now and its settled down. Of course, things are all crusty up there now. I'm tempted to pick it but I'm afraid I'll set it off again.