So, went out last night and when we got back I noticed I had a rather prominent blood blister on my thumb (courtesy of the rowing machine at the gym). I wanted to leave it be but Simon managed to convince me that it had to be popped this instant or else the world would end.

Yep, I let a drunk person cut my hand open WITH A CARVING KNIFE. Bloody hurt too. It's now weeping stuff and will probably get infected. Ew.

I also felt like my leg had popped out of its socket when I woke up this morning. I hobbled around the house proclaiming 'I'm lame!' The gym is also to blame for this. I'm not a very good advert for going to the gym really, am I? And my arse muscles really ache too. But guess where I'm going to go tomorrow? Aye, the gym. It's alright, I never was ever very fond of logic.

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