Here's the scenario: I come home after an EXHAUSTING day, in which I took the final portion of my controls PhD qualifying exam. I was so relieved it was over, and looked forward to a quiet relaxing night at home. After I walk through the door and hang my jacket up, Jovauna says: "Scott, I need to practice taking blood. Give me your arm."

WHAT THE F!? Practice taking blood!? Why me!? For those that don't know, Jovauna works as a medical assistant, so it might not seem that bad. But what most people don't know is that Jovauna is the CLUMSIEST person I have ever known. Clumsy + needles = get me out of here!

Being the good boyfriend that I am, I capitulate. Without exaggeration, I'm literally giving up my blood, sweat, and tears. So she straps my arm down, pulls out a 3 inch needle, and jabs it into my arm. Then she pulls the syringe and nothing comes out.

J: "Aw, that's interesting."

S: [Look of panic, while sweating profusely and holding back tears]
"What the hell does that mean!?"

Then she pulls back a little bit and pulls the syringe again. Blood rushes into the vile.

J: "I just learned what it feels like when I go too far! Yay! Now give me your other arm."

S: [Shreaking in panic] "No way!"


[Side Note: I writing this as I hide underneath my bed. Someone call Jovauna to distract her, because she's searching for me, needle in hand...and NO, I didn't get a sugar cookie!]