-- the car thing: I had to run to the grocery store for a couple bits so I could make dinner. I parked and was walking through the parking lot, and passed by a beat-up white compact car of indeterminate make/model/year (I'm not a Car Guy™), in which was seated a middle-aged guy yakking away on his cell phone. I continued past, and as he pulled out, he did not see that I was not clear of him. I heard the motor rev, so I had turned to make sure of the situation, which is why he bumped my hip and not my ass. I fell, he jumped out (cell still in hand) to see if I was OK. Really, he didn't hit me hard since it was right as he was putting it into drive to leave; hell, if I'd been another couple inches onward or hadn't stopped, I might have been scared but untouched. Anyway, he never got to me, as I unleashed a verbal assault the likes of which I haven't hit anyone with in a long time. It was a blitzkrieg of frightening proportions. I think he was trying to apologize, but I was angry, and told him that as soon as I got up, I was going to kill him. That's probably why he jumped back in his car and sped off. No, i did not get the plates, I was too busy picking myself up. I wish I had, though, and I'm betting he's sweating today, waiting for the cops to show up and arrest him for hit-and-run. Hopefully, he got no sleep last night. Yes, I was sore, and I'm still a little sore today, but nothing serious, no real joint pain, no bruise. By tonight, I'll be fine. As Wash once said, "I am a large, semi-muscular man. I can take it."
-- the hand thing: while making the afore-mentioned dinner, I was boiling water for some instant mashed potatoes (sue me, i didn't have time or inclination for real ones, though, yes, that is better). As the water was bubbling happily away, I grabbed a measuring cup in my right hand and picked up the pot in my left, trying to pour the water in (note: I did this because I'm special like the Olympics). Carefully, I tilted the pot, noting that the water tended to run down the outside and miss said measuring cup. Instead of, you know, maybe dipping the cup into the water or doing, oh, I dunno, ANYTHING ELSE INTELLIGENT, I chose to tilt the pot further so the water would just pour. This led to the water pouring, alright...right past the measuring cup and over the back of my hand. As I'm burning, I'm thinking to myself, "One, don't cry out, or Jessica will freak out and come running, and you know she isn't feeling well. Two, don't drop this or it might break, which will make noise and cause Jessica to come running, and you know she isn't feeling well, besides which it'll mean broken glass on the floor where you are barefoot, and also, this isn't mine, it's my future mother-in-law's, so that wouldn't be good." (Isn't it crazy how clear you sometimes think in times of great stress or pain?) So, I managed to get enough in the measuring cup, put everything down, and ran cold water over my hand. It's a bit red in places today, and if I scrape it on anything it's not happy, but, again, not nearly as bad as it could have been.
All in all, I was happy to just curl up with Jessica and watch episodes of Firefly for the rest of the night.