Ahhhh. Times off work. As much as they’re adored by the entire population of everywhere, ever, there’s always the dread that you have to go back to work. I’m getting that feeling now.
You see, I’ve been off, as you probably would have guessed by my excitement in an earlier post. Sadly, although the time off has been nice and relaxing, I’ve done absolutely nothing I’d planned. Instead, the time has been spent with a mixutre of fun, frolics, and… um…. flapping bits off skin, after cutting my thumb open.
Reeee-WIND to earlier in the week. Thursday, in fact. Because it as an entertaining day, despite all I did all day was list CD’s on eBay. 59 of them.
Thursday night was interesting. I met Mal, the moderator of an RAOB forum I frequent, from Liverpool. A good night was had by all! Except I spilt a pint. Grrr. I think the bloody carpet drank more than me that night.
After the lager-spilling incident, things went from bad to worse. The chinese I normally go to, after a fair few gallons, for whatever reason, decided that they wouldn’t have anyone behind the counter tonight, and after waiting for about 30 seconds (although it felt like hours), I decided that nobody was going to come, and disappeared out of the door again. Whether they did or not, I wasn’t bothered. I had provisions at home.
After walking to Chris’s, then back to mine, I got in, and was absolutely ravenous. I knew I had some frozen naan breads in the freezer. Patak’s Chikken Tikka Naan breads, in fact. Now, for the record, they come in packs of two, seperated by a thin sliver of plastic down the middle. Now, I wasn’t feeling my usual greedybast self, so I decided to just have the one. Now, onto separating the packages. A normal person would use scissors. but, the last time I saw our scissors, was in the bathroom. Down the side of the toilet. I… wasn’t *that* hungry. So, hurrah for steak knives, and their shiny, ultra sharp, serated edge. I stick it onto the strip, and whizz through it. Unfortunately, my thumb wanted a closer look at the shimmering blade. And indeed it did, as I sliced straight through my thumb. It’s times like this you know whether you’re squeamish with your own blood or not. And, as my hand proceeded to turn dark red, it was quite clear I wasn’t squeamish at all.
I calmly walked over to the other side of the kitchen, leaving a trail of blood in my path.
I grabbed a towel, and wrapped it around the thumb, and calmly walked upstairs to see Daddykins. Why? Because, for whatever reason, the first-aid kit is kept in his bedroom. Not somewhere where it would be useful, like the kitchen. Oh no. It’s on his bedside table.
Why does he keep it there? Does he have an elastoplast fetish or something? Actually, that could be the case, considering there were no elastoplasts left in the box. Ahem.
Anyway. He helps me wrap a bit of bandage around it, but by this time it had stopped bleeding. Still, I’d ended up with a towel soaked through with bodily fluid (hur hur hur hur), and my favourite shirt matched it. Bugger. Losing a pint of blood AND a pint of beer, this really wasn’t my night.
To top it all off, I proceeded to return downstairs, slap one of the naan breads in the microwave…. aaaaaand overcook it. So, I ate it, dry as a bone, hard as a rock. I could have cried.
And, now, something different.
I finally obtained some new styluses (styli?) for my record player! 2 of them to be exact Which is good. My other one wasn’t dead, but had quite a bit of playing time, so I thought getting some while they were cheap (£4 for 2!) would be the best idea.
Obviously, for that price, it means that my record player isn’t the best in the world and in a desperate need of an upgrade, but either way, I’ve got ‘em and I’m happy.
It really isn’t as dusty as it looks. The flash picks up any anomloy, and the picture looked like crap if it was taken with the flash off. I’ll give a Brucie Bonus to anyone who can name the record I’m playing at the time.
And that’s it. I shall return to work tomorrow. On a bank holiday Monday. And doing night shift. With an hour’s overtime. Never mind, eh?
I’d like to apologise in advance, because there’s a very big chance I’ll have a case of the Moooondaaaays.
Technorati Tags: blood, cut, needle, record player, steak knife
