Accidents and attacks

So, one thing is pretty clear- I'm not very good at blogging. Thanks to anyone who still checks this.
Well, I don't have anything really exciting to share but there have been a few "incidents" over the past week that are kind of funny. If you know me, you know I tend to be a little clumsy and accident prone. Who else falls down a set of stairs the day before her wedding? By the way, falling down is a lot worse than falling up stairs (which I've done many times).
It seems my strange luck has followed me to Washington... Before I can explain the "attack," I have to tell you a little about my work environment. I work for a small, home-based museum/non-profit consulting firm. The office (which actually does look like a small business office) is located above the garage and has a separate entrance which I use to come and go. There is also a door from the office to the main house. During the day, the only occupants of the main house are my boss's cat and dog. The dog is sweet, but the cat is another story- and I'm even a "cat person." My boss started out warning me that the cat could be mean at times, but thinking "I'm a cat person" I tried to woo him (Ed) over. He seemed nice enough at first and let me pet him whenever I happened to walk by. One day I stepped over him walking up the stairs and things haven't been the same since. That day he swiped at me and started hissing and chased me into the office (I know, I probably shouldn't have run, but I was scared). Things only escalated from there as he regularly tried to take swipes at me and hissed at me. And then last week he seriously tried to attack me (he's one of those big, fat cats- I promise, he's really scary). That morning he once again tried to swipe at me but just hit my pant leg. When I walked down the stairs to get my lunch out of the fridge I was watching out for him. I didn't see him though so I grabbed my lunch and started back up the stairs. When I had made it up a few stairs, Ed came running around the corner behind me and scratched my foot several times. My flip-flop went flying down the stairs and he started crawling towards me hissing and growling (yes, cats can growl). I had to get my shoe so I started yelling at him and he backed off a little. By that point my foot was bleeding and I just wanted to get back in the office. Every time I turned around to walk upstairs though he started coming at me again. Once I got to the top of the stairs (literally shaking because I was scared) I sprinted for the office and slammed the door. He came running behind me and slammed into the other side of the door. For the next hour he hissed and growled at me from the other side of the door. So, I'm done with the cat- he's so mean. I refuse to go in their house anymore if he's not put up because he stalks me. The day after the attack my boss's wife wanted me to let their dog out at lunch. I knew she would ask me and I had planned on saying "no" but somehow I ended up agreeing. So I got a big umbrella for protection and very quietly walked out the door and stood near the top of the stairs. Then I took one step and the cat came charging up the stairs and I went running back into the office. Needless to say, the dog didn't get taken out that day.
This week I'm still recovering from my cat wounds (he got me on part of my heel which hurts to walk on), but I also managed to cut my finger with a steak knife on Sunday night. I was trying to cut some cheese (haha- go ahead and laugh) really thin for my and Brad's sandwiches for Monday. Somehow my hand slipped and I ended up cutting my finger instead. Thankfully the knife went in diagonally and not straight down. At first it was bleeding a lot and when I ran my finger under the sink the cut looked pretty deep. Brad was worried and wanted to make sure I didn't need stitches. So we walked 2 blocks to the hospital emergency room (one of the benefits of living in a city). Brad had wrapped my finger in a maxi pad (they're really good for bleeding wounds) and some paper towels. After waiting for about an hour we finally saw the triage nurse. By that time my finger had pretty much stopped bleeding but it was partially numb. She said I should wait and see a PA so we went and filled out all of the hospital paperwork. After waiting another hour (by this time it was almost 11:30pm) I started thinking about going home. I didn't want to wait if they were just going to tell me to put on a band-aid. So we went and talked to the nurse again and she said she thought it looked ok- plus the "finger specialist" was going to be tied up for another hour or so. So we left the hospital and went to the 24-hour CVS and treated my finger ourselves. It's doing ok now.
So, that's a snapshot of my life from this past week. I'm going to let Brad do all the cutting for a while and I'm not setting foot near the cat at work....