Shrapnel

This is a true account of my crazy life from last November. It was exclusive to Facebook but is now global.

This is not blog worthy but way too long for a status update.  That being said it is completely worth your time.

If you've been around me for the last couple months you know that I have had absolutely no desire to voluntarily leave the house.
Today being Thanksgiving we decided to go to the movies, something new, sounded fun.
I stopped in the restroom prior to the previews.  In the stall next to me I hear a huge pop and see a bottle roll under the wall....Someone has tried to sneak alcohol into the theatre...dun...dun...duuunnnnn. No big deal I continue and am about to exit the stall when I hear a bigger pop and see another bottle roll. The second pop was followed by a spray of wine at my feet. This woman, who obviously can't hold her liquor (get it?) doesn't make a peep. I wash my hands and return to the theatre.
Moments later I feel something on my leg, I reach down and come up with blood all over my hand. I was hit with shrapnel! I could not believe this was happening. I returned to the bathroom to clean my wound.  The bathroom is empty and glass bottles are strewn about.  The woman didn't pick up her mess. I went to find management, they gave me a bandaid.

So what have we learned:
     1. when your mom says put pants on you should cause you never know when you will be hit with shrapnel in a public restroom.
    2. Maria should not leave the house, cause come on, who gets hit with shrapnel in a public restroom?!??!!

Thank you life for validating my desire to not leave the house.