Sprained my pinky finger yesterday at work when it got caught in the chain of the back door I was trying to lower. Big ouch! I think I've sprained this one before, as I knew exactly what was happening to me as the pain set it, the skin swelled, and the colour began to change. It's really rather unfortunate that it had to be my left hand, and for that matter, my hand at all, as writing and typing are quite regular formalities for me (let's not forget texting, as I seem to do that far too often than I would prefer). Thus, I have forced myself to, yes, reply to my semi-urgent emails right now and even take some notes here as practice makes perfect, and I really how no idea as to how long I will be in such pains.
Today was day 2 and a half of my return to Victoria. New place, new roomies, a real new start of kicking on my own.
Turns out that Tuxedo Dr. as the landmark for when to signal my stop on the bus is quite flawed, as it appears twice on my route - once too early, and once right on the mark. So last night I thought I had undershot, and ended up walking almost all the way to Pat Bay highway. It made me kranky and depressed as I just wanted to sleep in my new, comfy, queen size mattress (far more than a person of my height and size ever needs). On the bright side (which I tried desperately to find on my backtrack) it gave me time to think about life sans Vikes rowing, which I would rather not comment on right now.
I think I'm going to get carple tunnel in my right hand - it's doing so much more work in compensation for my maimed left.
It's really too bad that I cannot use this sweet injury as an excuse for undercooking my pasta tonight. My cooking skills are a whole matter of their own- another disadvantage of mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment