(no subject)
Yesterday was a rather unpleasant day. Now, you might ask why it was so unpleasant, whether it was the job itself, annoying coworkers, or just a generally unpleasant cloud hanging over the day. To be truthful it was none of these. Rather, it was unpleasant because I kept cutting my hands and fingers on things. Most of these wounds were negligible until I came to everybody's favorite antiquated device, the paper cutter. Oh what an elegant device it is, a massive steel blade, often rusty attached by a bolt to a slab of wood or metal. The perfect utilitarian device for maiming oneself. And so I did. While cropping letters for one o my many supervisors, I managed to lose track of where I had placed my finger and cut a rather large divot out of it. Luckily, I learned I had only removed the skin and had not caused any lasting damage to either nerves or muscles. Unluckily, it took two hours before the doctor finally came to tell me this, and so I lost the evening in which I had planned to track people down and request an audience. c'est la vie.