So I rearranged the bricks along the front
drive, and in the process smash my index finger, (if there is any ambiguity,
the first finger). Yes it hurt, but not
a ten on the life meter of experienced pains.
It bled, and I felt sorry for myself while I washed it off, then discovered that the finger bled under the nail, so I
got to spend months with a black finger nail hearing all kinds of sordid
stories about friends thinking I was experimenting with going Goth;
jokers. Now the nail has grown out to
the point where the injury at the cuticle is exposed and its rough, catching on clothes and things. It’s a creepy
feeling and I can easily see me ripping the entire nail off before its time;
that makes me cringe. So, my wife
convinced me to wear a band aid on it to protect it, and it does. But in the course of my protection I’ve
surrendered a number of activities I took for granted, I thought I’d list them:
Foremost, picking my nose.
Paperwork after the toilet, and I'll leave it at that.
Difficulity with my zipper
Tying shoes is a very challenging task
without feeling my control finger
Writing with a pencil, pen, whatever
Playing my guitar; ok, I take it off for
that because I really need the pad of my fingertip for this one.
Getting anything out of my pocket shreds
the band aid and I have to put on another.
Did I mention picking my nose?
Those are the activities that just popped into my head for today’s
comment. It's Sunday so I didn't want to burden anyone with thinking. I’ll let you know when the nail
comes to its final stage of decomposition…but it won’t be any time soon; I’m
sure.
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