awkward with pointy things

No nuclear warfare ensued at my house yesterday, much to my relief and surprise. Though Phoebe (the baby kitteh) is clearly not so smart, as evidenced by the below photo:

Gave blood today, which for some reason I have an absolute compulsion to do, though I'm not sure why. I feel like "I hate needles" is just really not an excuse (though it's true), what with all the "your blood could save a baby's life" propaganda plastered all over the side of the bloodmobile. And so, my needle-phobic self walked up in the bloodmobile (I love calling it that, ps) and donated. Now, I always go through a big elaborate process of giving myself a firm mental pep talk before I even walk in the door. It goes something like this:

Meredith, get your stupid wussy self in there, you already know it's going to hurt, yes, it will be THE WORST PAIN IMAGINABLE. Also the gaping hole they are going to create in your arm MIGHT NEVER CLOSE and as a result, all of the goo in there might spill out and you will die a slow, painful death. But you know what's worse? BEING A WUSS. So you are going to get in there, keep your mouth shut as much as possible, try not to visibly shake, and GET THIS JUNK DONE.
So that's what I do, except usually it involves me telling a lot of random stories in an awkwardly loud voice to the poor unsuspecting blood-taking people because I have to talk in order to distract myself and not become a quivering heap on the floor, screaming "OH GOD, NOT THE NEEDLE!"

What's interesting is that I am not afraid of anyone else's blood, am not grossed out by watching someone else get stuck/cut open/mangled by a shark/etc. In fact, I might like to even to do some cutting/sticking/mangling if it needs to be done, because really it kind of fascinates me. But if we are talking about needles with the pointy end toward me, or the possibility of MY insides becoming my outsides, well then, we have a major problem.

So this is the part where I get a giant badge of honor to go with my sticker, blue bandage, and nasty lukewarm juicebox, plus enough of a boost in my karma to go around keying people's cars for a month without repercussions because of my ENORMOUS PERSONAL SACRIFICE. Mwahahaha.