I honestly didn't know how "safe" my Toledo newspaper job was until I started working at the New York coffeehouse.
Along with being on my feet up to eight hours a day, I also have a number of ways to hurt myself right within reach. Since I'm a klutz, this happens a lot.
But I didn't burn myself today! Score one for me!
Instead, I dropped the gigantic ice machine lid on my right big toe.
Then, because my left big toe was feeling left out, that one got the rim of one of our metal garbage cans.
Both of those hurt way more than the paper cuts I was prone to when working at the newspaper. This is how I know I was made to be a writer - and not a construction worker, police officer, firefighter or anything else that comes into contact with any REAL danger.
And of course my fiance has a (legitimate, though annoying) foot phobia, so it takes hours of pleading for a few-minute foot rub.
But for those few minutes, I'm in H-E-A-V-E-N!
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