Burn, baby, burn...

Today's pointless photo is, of course, completely pointless. Today's post? Will likely make heavy use of the backspace key. And why is that, Dee?

Well, first I have to give you a little bit of information about stoves.

Did you know that your average electric stove's burner element doesn't cool down immediately just because you've turned the burner off? You did? Ok, but did you know that if you forget that the burner is still hot and then accidentally put your non-dominant hand on it while reaching for something with your dominant hand, you can discover how fast your reflexes are?

Mine apparently aren't fast enough.

It's ok, though. Of the two fingertips currently paying the price, only one ended up blistered. The other mostly just looks like I tried to iron my fingerprint. And the bandages are more for padding while I'm typing than anything else. Oh, and to remind myself that if I touch anything with those particular fingers in the next while, I might be checking my reflexes again.

This whole thing does give me an excuse to bring up one of my weirder phobias, though. I know I've mentioned it before, but for as long as I can remember I've been terrified of being burned.

Now, some of my two fans might be wondering just now how fear of being burned can be considered a weird phobia. Fear of injury, fear of pain; things like that actually make sense, survivally-speaking. True. The weird part isn't really the phobia, though. It's the fact that I've had the fear from practically day one and there was no reason to have it. I've never been seriously burned. In fact, my current blister marks the first time I've ever had more than a first-degree burn. So why would a small child who's never been burned be so scared that it might happen?

I have no answer for that.

I've said in the past, very much jokingly, that it's the one thing that might make me believe in reincarnation. Maybe some past life ended in a fire? Maybe I really am a witch?

Must... resist... urge... to... link... to... scene... from... Holy... Grail... yet... again...

Anyway. I'm being told by my right hand that I've typed enough for the moment. Talk, at you later, then.




I'll let you know if I decide to re-test my reflexes using the oven...