... I was supposed to be writing essays for the next couple of weeks, I know. But yesterday while I was typing away in the library my right wrist started to tingle and before I knew it my veins were bulging and my lower fingers were slightly blue. 'Oh dear', I thought, and popped off to see the nurse. Well, I have been signed off of writing essays for at least a week, or indeed from using my right hand at all. Fun.
So here I am, typing a blog post with my left hand like a pre-schooler, because I can't do nothing at all and in fact I'm very bad at doing nothing at all because I'm always doing something even when I say I'm doing nothing and... yeah, you get the idea.
To change the subject slightly, I have noticed of late that, more often than not, I smell like an old lady. Not my fault. It's my room - old Birmingham terraces with a window that leaks = musty. Musty musty musty musty. So I attacked my wardrobe, shoved all my clothes on rinse and set about making some new wardrobe smellies with an old dress and a smashed up bath bomb. Voila! I now smell like an old lady's knicker drawer. Slight improvement.