Chop chop.

I cut the tip of my finger at work the other day slicing bread. Its not too bad, nothing a week of bandaids can't fix. It is, however, annoying as all hell and I cannot keep from banging my stupid finger into everything all the time. Which kills. And taking showers, forget it. I mean, for such a small injury, its really a son-of-bitch. Then I thought that this was a decent metaphor for how I've been feeling lately. All these bandages that keep getting in my way-- I am at the mercy of self-induced minor inconveniences.

Knives are sharp. Don't be a retard.