The good news is, it's not stigmata

I've been having this cut on my leg for the longest time ever. I mean weeks and weeks, at least five weeks I would say. And it was just a little cut and I only noticed it periodically because it's at a tricky place on my leg, sort of on the inside of the bottom of my calf. And I never wear shorts, so there aren't really many occasions on which the inside of the bottom of the calf gets a lot of attention. But as I say, it's been weeks, and I was starting to get a little worried. Usually minor cuts and bruises on my legs aren't worth remembering. I would love to be as graceful as a swan (the nicest compliment I ever remember getting as a kid was when my choir teacher asked my mother if I was in ballet because I was so graceful), but in fact I am just about the clumsiest person in the world and I am constantly bashing into things. When I was tiny I bashed into things so often (with my head) that my mum got worried and took me to the doctor to see if maybe I was giving myself brain damage.

(Yeah, think about that, bitches. Think how smart I could've been.)

Well, as I say, being a remarkably clumsy person, I thought nothing of this cut for a while but then it wouldn't go away and it wouldn't go away and finally I started getting a little superstitious and checking it every couple of hours to see if it had gone away. Because imagine if it was a bizarre supernatural cut that was meant to be the signal for the beginning of a bunch of really excellent supernatural adventures, and I was so oblivious that finally the Supernatural Adventure Scheduling Panel got mad and was all "Oh, for God's sake, this girl's never going to notice a thing that changes with this cut. Give her supernatural adventure to that other little blonde girl we had on the string." I mean, how bad would that be? I'd really just regret that forever.

The other possibility, of course, which I'm sure would have leapt into your mind even if I hadn't brought it up already, is that it was stigmata, perhaps only the first in a whole stigmata series to appear in all the appointed places. And, okay, it wasn't quite on my ankle, but it was only a teeny bit above my ankle, and you know what? I wasn't there! I don't know where they nailed the foot nails in! I was seriously about to send an email to Mel Gibson to ask him about this when I found out what was up.

My boot was doing it. Damn boot. It had a tag, and when I wore these boots, I noticed that the tag was irritating, but it was only a little irritating, and if I flipped it outwards, my trousers covered it and it stopped hurting. And I know I sound really stupid now, because a smart person would have realized OF COURSE what was going on, but in my defense I have to say two things: 1) I have a really active imagination, and when one thought takes over my brain it's sometimes difficult for a different (yes, I'll admit, possibly a more rational and viable) thought to get past the first thought, and it is much more fun to believe I have stigmata or an upcoming supernatural adventure; and 2) I have two pairs of heeled boots, and one of them (not the ones that gave me the cut) come up a lot higher on my leg than the other, and I have had the higher pair for longer so in my brain when I put on heeled boots I am wearing shoes that come up higher than the place where the little cut was.

I cut out the tag. I'm sort of sad there's no supernatural adventure in store for me, but I'm glad it's not stigmata. I don't want people bothering me for the rest of my life trying to do pesky exposes.