“AH! Finnaly! All my new beautiful wooden floors are installed, I get my house back!” I said as I wipe the beading sweat off my forehead with the bottom of my T-shirt

(Little did I know how hard it is to avoid something you’re just trying so hard to avoid.)

As I stare down at all the hard work, the shiny, polished gleaming oak of the floors stretching from my kitchen to the end of my couch that sat right before the living room carpet “that was so stupid expensive and took way too much time, I’m so happy it’s over.”

I know a great way to celebrate, I’ll invite some friends over and make my grandmother’s soup! I gather all the food items from the store after cleaning up from the house work, all the filthy dust and paint, nasty stuff will stain and get on everything. I soon arrive from the store, I grabbed all the groceries within one trip so I didn’t have to make multiple trips, I had at least 35 pounds in each hand so excited to see my cat who my cat sitter dropped off ealier after I left for groceries. I open the door and find my arms wide open, all my groceries flying in all directions “Hey Mittens! I’m back baby! I miss you so much!?”

Oh how I missed my cat, even though it had only been a few days since the clean-up.

she always stayed around when we did some of the flooring, but had to give her to someone while it got messy, I feel like I have never pet her with such love and affection. I then picked up all the groceries a violently threw to the side.

I learned a few things after thinking while pick up all the scattered groceries across my new floor.

After getting home and meeting up with my cat and new floors, I started the prep for the soup I was going to make. I grab the onions out of their bag and grabbed my newly sharpened knife.

Well Damnit.

I crouched on the floor, clutching a wad of paper towels I grabbed at what it felt Lightning speed, like a battlefield medic. One tiny drop of blood gleamed on the hardwood, bright red against the glossy mahogany. I dabbed at it frantically, muttering, “Come on, come on, before it soaks in—wood is porous, wood is porous…”

I tossed the stained towel into the trash, stood up, and sighed in relief. Then I noticed another drop. And another. I stared at my finger. Still bleeding from that stupid knife I cut was cutting onions with.

My body went below zero, my heart skipped a large amount of beats. Time slowed down as sweat starts dripping, that or it was tears, I was silently panicking so hard if someone saw me just standing there, staring so intensely at a red dot, sweating, or tearing up, I’d assume they would think I just got home after spending some time in an asylum’s white room.

By the third paper towel, I found myself kneeling, scrubbing so hard I half-expected to wear a hole straight through the floorboards, which in any case, did not help.

That was when Mittens jumped onto the counter, tapping a glass of water, she teased me at first, booping the glass while I was still on my knees, tap, boop, tap, smack.

The glass shattered glass flying everywhere. I jerked, sliced my palm on the edge of a shard, and gasped.

Blood. Everywhere.

“Oh, come on!” I screamed to the empty kitchen. “Do you have a problem with the new floors?!”

I grabbed the mop, so panicked I forgot to drain the mop of excess water. slipped in my own mess, and landed flat on my back. I stared at the ceiling, chest heaving, and thought: I could buy a carpet. Or I could just start charging rent to my own bloodstains.