Giving everyone else the finger

On Sunday night, in a fit of pointless pernicketyness, I decided I couldn't bear to look at the unfastened catch on the Boy Wonder's guitar case, so I did it up myself. Instead of moving it to a more accessible position, I went rogue and approached it left handed as it lay propped on a stool, the result being that I have what would have been a blood blister, had I not managed to actually puncture the skin, in the middle of the fingertip on my left middle finger. It's one of those injuries which, whilst hardly likely to be fatal, is a lot more painful than you would expect, largely because I am so used to not having a flap of bruised skin there that I just use that part of my finger willy nilly with nary a thought to the consequences.

Another unfortunate consequence is that in my efforts to avoid further damaging said finger, I am conducting all my daily business (that's not a euphemism - I am technically doing business!) with my middle finger cocked at a jaunty angle, giving the impression that I am flipping the world a rather feeble and half hearted bird, which of course is usually more of a mental state than a physical one. Combined with my icky ring finger on my right hand I vaguely resemble a broken marionette whose finger strings have become entangled, rendering both hands odd looking and marginally more useless than normal.