Ice for the broken

I'm writing currently with my left hand. Thank God for autocorrect because this is just unacceptable. My right index finger feels broken, but the nurse just has ice on it. I believe that's because she wants to enhance the pain I already feel.

To the right of me in this pit of despair (ie the nurses' office) is a mouth breather. Not sure why he's here, but he needs to shut it. I sit with one leg folded underneath the other; I'm wearing these Aladdin type pants that prevent me from sitting well. And nurse beds are super wide. 

Plus, my hand hurts, so I can't adjust anything or move without dropping all my stuff. 

I hurt my hand, because I got into a fight today. Over a stupid bag of chips. I mean, Drake had a point when he said "all you niggas fightin' over crumbs where the bread at?". I took a chip from him. An invasion of privacy, I know. Never touch another man's food, I KNOW. You done fucked up Ethan, GOD DAMN IT I KNOW! But why you gotta punch someone in the face over it?

So, in my defense -although I did instigate- he hit me first. I punched him back, which was sort of instant bad Karma for me, because I think I hurt myself more than I hurt him. I'm not even sure if it hurt him, but then again the adrenaline was rushing, and I felt no pain until afterwards either. I felt the shakes first. My hand trembled like one of those dogs with canine distemper. Then a stabbing pain that made my eyes wince and I hobbled around holding myself, because I have never really punched anyone before.

I am glad, however, that I landed a punch, because it's a pride issue. I'm not gonna lose my first fight without getting any hits in. Plus, I wanted to see my strength. I realize now, maybe I need more calcium.

My dad picked me up from school. I think he was more mad that I made him late to a meeting than actually being in the fight. (One because it was my first, and Two I only got in trouble because I defended myself.) I think he was secretly proud that his first born finally manned up (although it was his immaturity that got him there).

So now I sit, writing this. The ice is burning my skin. My hand is so numb, and yet, I wear this spectacular grin. Yes, I wince from the pain. Yes, I am embarrassed that I made a fool of myself. So why am I smiling?

I honestly, have no idea.