TALES OF DESTRUCTION

I'll spare you the gore but last week, I had an argument with a machine at the gym in which the machine won. To cut the story very short, a weight of some substance descended from a fair height and crushed my middle finger (right hand) flat. Like putty. 

I looked at it for a while until the nail exploded into blues and blacks as it peeled away from its host, marvelled at how the blood from the cut beneath the nail was mixing with it to make a pretty rainbow... which was when I noticed it shouldn't be that shape, or indeed, facing the way it was. 

And then I felt sick. I figured I had best go to the hospital to get it checked out and spent the next fifteen minutes continually smacking it against the windscreen wiper stalk every time I needed to make a turn. The next time pain wants to hitch a ride in the car with me, it had better be wearing a seatbelt.

So, today is my first day of being able to navigate a keyboard 'properly' and who knew there were so many ways you could customise a trackpad to make it do what you want! Holding a pen is out of the question... in fact, pretty much anything involving that hand is out of the question.

This has been awkward as hell as it's been 'magazine to print' few days recently. Everything has taken three times as long as it should and it sucks to say the least. 

Not looking for sympathy, there's none to be had is there - I just thought it might make a good story for five seconds... and now - back to work, albeit very, very slowly.

Sion Smith