Some days just aren't worth getting out of bed for...

and this is one of them.

I spent the afternoon going through boxed of old dishes and kitchen stuff, sorting out what I want to take with me when I move out. Then, I went through old children's books, sorting though those I really have to sell, and those that my brother and sister might, possibly, like.

Then, this evening... nothing in particular happened, until I decided that I was hungry and went to cut a slice of bread. With a very sharp knife. Which, naturally, slipped and cut my finger, right at the first joint. I've got nothing against seeing my blood from deliberate cuts, but this was rather too much of it coming out at once, and in a rather inconvenient place. Honestly, if I want to cut, I do not choose finger-joints as ideal places.

So, being as bandaging up one finger with the other hand isn't really productive, especially when the cut is bigger than the space on the band-aids, I went to fetch my mother... and I ended up waiting for my parents to finish boinking. Honestly, I mean, I know that they do it, but I really don't need to know about it. Really.

So, now, my finger is bandaged, so I have trouble typing, it hurts like all hell, and I really should get stiches... But, well, not really...

The only positive thing about the entire day is that, having worked my ass off, everything is now sorted out and cleaned, and I'm less pissed at my ex-girlfriend.

Yay.