And do you feel scared - I do, but I wont stop and falter. And if we threw it all away, things can only get better.

I cut the end of my finger whilst doing a job for somebody earlier today.
Not just a 'nick' or a surface 'slice', a proper deep slash. It was one of those "ouch" moments, when you just know that you've cut yourself, but when you look at it, for the first....oh I dunno, five seconds, there's nothing apparent there. Then the blood starts seeping out.
Normally a plaster is sufficient, so I wrapped some toilet paper around it and made my way down the stairs to get to my first aid kit in the van outside. My first aid kit comprises of a box of assorted sized plasters and....well, that's it. By the time I'd reached the bottom of their stairs, there was so much blood, I had trouble trying to catch the dribbles and fathom out how to open their Deadlock system on the front door. Luckily, I managed to get outside before the blood spillage was more than I could handle, literally! I'm surprised one of their neighbour's didn't come running out to challenge me, screaming "murderer!", considering I had a look of panic on my face and was swiftly running up the path, away from their house with blood dripping from both hands by this time.
I need to re-stock my 'first aid kit', as not one, not two, but five plasters were required to stop said bleeding.

As is usually the case, later on in the day, when I get a chance to shower and slowly remove the plaster, it never looks as bad as it did. Although of course, by this time, the constant pumping of blood has ceased and what I'm left with is normally a cut that doesn't look too bad.
This particular cut looks pretty deep to me. I can do that thing, that if I gently squeeze the cut at each end, I can open and close it up, a bit like a mouth.

When I get slashed up like this, it always has a knock on effect on most things I do. Gripping things, turning things on and off, holding things, making thing....the list goes on....and it's only when you hurt yourself like this that you realise just how much of a pain in the arse it can be.
I'm struggling to type, because I generally only use two or three fingers and the injured one is apparently one of said fingers. And it's weird, because now I'm sat here struggling with it, thinking about it, I didn't realise I would have used my middle finger so much when I'm typing. But I do, because it's causing me grief.
Having crisps in my sandwich is probably not a wise idea and it also puts hold on any plans of a 'hand-shuffle' I might have had. I hope The Girl isn't gonna be too unhappy when she sees how 'incapable' it's made me become, especially as we're seeing each other this weekend. A swift healing and recovery is therefore needed, although luckily, I always have my other hand and that's got five perfectly working digits on it!