Flippin’ the Bird

I don’t claim to be ladylike, exactly, but I don’t indulge in unseemly gestures much.

Which makes it doubly annoying that I’m now in a permanent state of social disrespect with my middle finger. For those of a squeamish disposition, suffice it to say that I have injured the longest finger on my right hand, and it’s now splinted so I can’t easily bend it. Hence the Bird effect.

For those who enjoy the odd “eeeuwww!” moment, read on.

I had to go to the courthouse today to get myself excused from jury service for the third time in as many years. (I’m not a shirker, I did jury service 4 years ago, but my name seems to come up with monotonous regularity every year, and in a population of over 80,000 in the greater Mackay area, I feel it’s statistically dubious, so I get excused.) Anyway, I had my left hand full of papers, and the car door swung shut fast, because the car was parked at a downhill angle. My right hand didn’t make it out in time…

Lots of swearing and scrabbling futilely at the door later, I managed to get it to release my mangled finger. Fast forward through my court-house errand, where the clerk took one look and told me to take my wounded paw to hospital, and signed all the forms for me. Half an hour’s wait at the Emergency department with the purple digit in a cup of ice and three tablets of pain relief, and I emerged with an annoying aluminium splint and some rather vivid and lumpy bruising, but no breaks. It seems I have an unerring talent for damaging myself in painful but not excessively serious ways.

Typing takes ages, writing is difficult, and sewing by machine or hand is out for the next few days. Just as I thought I might catch up on my slipping deadlines. Bummer…