Well, at least it is healing up finally. One would think, or let me say I used to think, that typing involved only the tips of one’s fingers. Not so, not so. I also used to think that my double-edged Safe-T razor, that big metal one that has the blade edges tucked inside and out of harm’s way, could slice so deep, so cleanly, close to and below the nail. ‘Twas a quick prick and sharp. One also has rather, shall we say, exuberant blood vessels there so near the finger tips. I tried typing, but even my feather-light touch would continually push apart those two pieces and expose the brilliant, angry, red crescent-moon. *Sigh*
I guess that I am surprised that I am still surprised by how much I don’t realize how much this hitherto unknown and unfelt parts of me are used in everyday activities until they are somehow damaged, given my life-long yet unwilled propensity for self-inflicted collateral damage.
I think that last sentence made sense, but it is late and I am trying to make up for lost time. Maybe I should re-read tomorrow 😉