I recently told my sister that those in their 80s are most likely to die of nothing more than doing something stupid.
Maybe I should stop saying that. Don't worry--my 80 something parents are fine...well as fine as 80-something people can be.
Today I was the stupid one. In what can only be defined as a moment of lapsed brain power I managed to slam my own car door into my forehead. In the aftermath, I was left with blood running down my face and a confused feeling of something like, "what the?" I honestly don't know what happened but when I ran back into the doctor's office to ask for a band-aid I told them the glare of the sun did it. How that would happen I'm not sure but with blood all over my forehead, they didn't ask too many questions.
This evening I am left with an inch-long scar right on my forehead. No, it's not in the shape of a lightning bolt. It's just red and ugly.
If it had a name it would be called Kharma.