Utterly Random Thought

The worst part of stubbing your toe is the four second delay between your brain processing that you just bashed one of your piggies into the coffee table/filing cabinet/Michael Moore's shin and the offended digit sending a flurry of pain messengers racing back to said brain to deliver the bad news. Yeah, the knowledge that pain is on its way is worse than the pain itself. We just don't know it because the pain lasts longer.

It's a similar deal when you cut yourself. Blood is a lot slower than neural transmitters; there have been times that I've cut myself and had enough time to try to bargain with the blood: "Yes, I know it's on your job description to scurry to the surface and pour out onto my skin, but let's just recognize that I've done injury to myself and I'll wrap it up and that will be that." Nope, blood has to do it's thing.

Stupid coffee pot.

UPDATE: Allow me to explain. The objects involved were a kitchen sponge, hot water, and the dreaded decanter. Apply the former two to the latter, add an inexplicable disintegration of the decanter and place the newly-formed sharp edge adjacent to human skin. Before I could react, I had a two-inch gash just below my thumb. I bled like I was on an anticoagulant. To add to my dismay, I discovered that I had only a smattering of bandages about. I applied three and went to bed.