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I'm Geordie. That's my name, I'm not "a geordie" because if that was my name and a thing I was it'd be really weird. Late 30s, cishet (he/him), love basketball and go to all Sydney Kings home games with my wife and 7 year old kid. I live in the North Shore are of Sydney in Australia. I love cooking, especially for my family, and I work in cloud tech. I joined Mastodon to have a more chill experience with more real people.

Good morning Fediverse, I hope you're doing great this morning.

Given it's a student free day at the school I'm considering pitching "customer free day" to the boss. In the spirit of "let's not have the thing that makes this hard"

AQI is 20 how come everyone is wearing respirators?

I’m watching “Red” and it’s quite good.

They asked if I wanted to go to hospital anyway even though I am probably OK. I say I'm indeed fine, and don't need to be taken off to hospital. The only down side of that decision is no decent drugs. But I'll live. Just can't drive for a few days.

So the pressure has worked, and they can dress it properly. It's a small wound, but deepish and has cut a muscle and a vein thing which is why it was spurting. I'm ok now, with my foot up, but this is the first time I've tried to make toast and summoned both police and paramedics.

Wife calls 000. What I didn't know, is that any 000 call that is "send paramedics my spouse stabbed themselves" kicks off an automatic police job, because maybe they did stab themselves or maybe something else went down. The paramedics arrive, and cancel the police when it's obvious I did in fact just stab myself trying to make toast.

It's spurting, which in my mind is the division between "we can hit this with the bathroom first aid kit" and "we might need pro help"

Wife: "Do I need to call 000?"
Me: "Yeah you do."
Child: *scared noises*
Me: C'mere champ you're going to sit on this towel that I put on my foot on top of the gauze.

So my wife and kid are watching Harry Potter on the couch and I don't want to disturb them, and initially I'm thinking this is a sticking plaster job, but I get a few steps and it absolutely isn't. There's blood err'where.

The knife flies off the counter. It's heavy, and sharp. It's not super sharp along its length, but it has a very sharp point. A point which 200ms later is embedded in my foot. It's ok, it doesn't stick, well, doesn't stick long, it falls out and I spurt blood up the cupboard door under the bench.

So the tongs spring open from the clip thing that keeps them closed, flicking the knife off the bench. Now is probably where I admit I wasn't wearing shoes.

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Welcome to thundertoot! A Mastodon Instance for 'straya