So I woke up this morning with stigmata. It's not the first time, either, but it's never been like this. The usual ones are just a slow leak from the hole through my left hand, and a bit of gauze takes care of it rather well.
This morning was different. This morning, I woke up with the stigmata of the martyrdom of Saint Eulalia. The slow leak from my left hand I could deal with, but this is ridiculous. Long gashes from my ribs down to my pelvis, and I can see the living bone, an experience I'd hoped never to repeat. There are third degree burns over most of my breasts and armpits, and my hair is just gone, burned away.
I'm not happy about this. Oh, sure, it probably means that God has plans for me, but as a Sign goes? This one sucks. A burning bush would've been nice. A disembodied voice booming, "I AM." Hell, I'd take visitations by seraphim and voices in the back of my head. This shit is just plain annoying, though. The sheets are ruined, I had to call in sick, and I've gone through half the towels in the house already trying to stanch the flow of blood. Took me all morning on Google to find out what was going on with me. At least it doesn't hurt, but I feel pretty dizzy.