Ouchy

A couple of weeks back, because of moving and so on, I shoved a safety razor in a pocket in my bag, so that if/when I got too stubbly, I could have a quick shave when I got in to work, and look at least vaguely human.

I then forgot about it.

Last night, on the train, I was looking for my headphones and shoved my hand into the pocket on my bag. Suddenly, I remembered the safety razor in there. But only after I’d managed to shave a layer off the pad of my little finger, which is now suspiciously flat.

It bled like a bastard, unsurprisingly, but is all OK, except for being extremely painful on occasion. It’s got a poxy big plaster over it, so it’s safe, but does get knocked all the time. And just before going to @Media tomorrow, as well. Typical.

My name’s Lyle, and I can be a right twonk sometimes.