Is This Some Sort of Sign

Today I was looking around the silver and fine china at Famous Barr in downtown St. Louis. Now, I rarely pay attention to such things, but it was next to the Christmas clearance items that Mom was checking out, so I decided to peruse the silverware patterns. And, true to my inner girl, within five minutes, I was picking out a pattern for my "hope chest" - a stock pile of things with which to set up house after I walk the plank of holy matrimony.

Oneida pattern "Act I" caught my eye because of its simple lines and lack of extraneous adornment. Modern minimalism at it's best! I picked up the butter knife and began to day dream of all the fabulous bread I'd serve at fabulous dinner parties at the fabulous house I shared with my fabulous husband (who will actually be known as 'that poor bastard that married me')...and then I felt the tiny teeth of the knife slip across my thumb and felt a slight sting. I was jolted back to reality when I saw my own blood sprinkled across the blade and bubbling up out of a new opening in my finger. I spent the rest of the afternoon with several bandaids wrapped around my right thumb (one of the most inconvenient places to be cut) and having to periodically readjust them. I've felt the wound reopen a few times and it...is an interesting sensation. Dare I say it feels kind of cool.

I'm taking this as some sort of sign...that I'm not supposed to even think about someday getting matrimony silver? Or maybe I'm just not supposed to get Oneida "Act I." Or maybe it's that butter knives are just as dangerous as the ones intended for steaks...