Tuesday, 1 September 2015

Top of my Finger

Felt like I accomplished a days worth in about 2 hours this morning. Woke up to say my goodbyes to Rebecca as she toddled off to work. Was about to hop into the shower so I bought my washbag along, reach in to grab my shampoo and my finger was greeted with a very odd sensation which kind of tickled at first but quickly turned into pain as I realised what I had done. I blindly went and grabbed my razor blade-first. Blood begun pouring out of a sizable dimple on my fingeras I looked woefully at the part that left me, still attached the the razor-blade. And its blooming tough trying to shower with only one hand whle keeping the other a mile away from hot water and/or soap. To top it all off, I couldn't get Rebecca's shower to play ball. It was the kind of shower scenario that I only thought existed in stand-up comedy. Fine tuning the temperature dial like a radio didn't help either as bare millimeters to the right or left meant the difference between Arctic tundra or blazing inferno.

After a very eventful shower I did my duty as a temporary 'stay at home boyfriend' and went into town to exchange a lightbulb, we bought the wrong size basically. Ingredients for dinner this evening were also bought as I attempted to follow in Lucy's footsteps and make her infamous salmon parcels with pesto. When it came to cooking them I actually pulled it off with only a fraction of burnt pastry. Happy tummies all round otherwise though.

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