I know what you're thinking, did Wolverine do this? Close, but it was actually an envelope. I think we need to take a good hard look at the motives of office stationary, and ask ourselves: Are they really on our side?
Gingerbeard observed this injury of mine and proclaimed, 'I'm not really bothered.' So I have attached a photo of my ghastly banister bruise in week two.
I know you can't exactly see it. Just imagine it. Imagine that it shocks you in its multitude of colours. What a truly horrific thing this banister has done. But don't panic, I don't think it's broken. Just fractured.
In other news, a man in a taxi tried to run me over in town. During his 35mph romp up the main street he suddenly felt inclined to sharply swerve onto a side road. My side road. Which I was in the middle of. Maybe getting to see an emergency stop in action, will make mine on the driving test, significantly more impressive. But in my proudest moment yet as an almost driver, I threw my hands in the air and screamed, 'INDICATE!'
The brown haired, black car, spluttering little fucker.
Also, I'm writing. Well, I'm not exactly writing, I'm editing. Ok, so it's not exactly editing, but I did purchase a rather fetching paperchase notebook. I spent a good five minutes talking with the cashier girl about how beautiful it was, which can only be considered as vital research for my future career as an author. Everytime I bump into someone they ask me how my writing is going. On par with, how's the baby? how's the new job? How's the house move? It's my big, defining feature and I suck at it. I don't think the blog counts. I'd really like the blog to count.
So I'm going to go and write now, after I've edited something, after I've finished staring at my shiny notebook like a salivating magpie.
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