So I cut my thumb on a linoleum cutter. Then I went into the hallway to pass out. I always pass out when it comes to these sorts of things, so I was prepared this time. As soon as I saw the blood gush, I was like, "Welp, better go find some able-bodied teachers who can babysit me as I sit on the floor and be woozy for a while." I pass out all the time, not even when I cut myself, so I know exactly what it feels like right before I do. I also know that it's not a big deal and that it's just my body's sissy way of handling a small cut on my finger. Unfortunately, the teachers that I designated to watch over me in the hallway didn't know that, so security was inevitably called. He did bandage me up pretty good, but they were all saying, "Stitches!" and that was making me a bit more woozy. Luckily, after all the wooziness passed about 12 hours later, I checked up on my thumb. Stitches indeed! It is a pretty good gash though, so I don't feel as ridiculous. A little ridiculous, but not as ridiculous.