A knitters worst nightmare...
Yesterday, in my infinite wisdom, I decided to try and hack off my index finger whilst doing the washing up. Had I remembered that I'd wanted to finish a hat project today, I would have tried for a less inconvenient appendage; such as a toe or an ear.
It didn't feel like much at the time. I felt a rough pain as I washed out what I've since discovered to be a cracked mug, however; I thought I'd failed to mutilate myself. It was only the spurting that followed as I grasped a plate from the bowl (the finger curling action opening the gash, forcing blood to pour out like ketchup) that had me grabbing for a tea-towel.
So now I sit here forced to play Bejewelled Blitz on Facebook for hours; I just can't help it - is it not the most addictive thing ever? Oh no... sorry; that would be crack.