I'm learning how to type. Well relearning. See there was this rock in my yard. I don't need big rocks in my yard, but I do need little rocks in my driveway. So I got my rocks off the yard and put them in the driveway, and ATTACKED THEM WITH A HAMMER. What I learned = don't mess with quartz.
This boulder took it personal and defended itself, it split and leapt straight for my knuckles. [Trivia fact: the sharp edges of split rocks are among the sharpest objects known.] Should have had about three stitches, but you know---USA, heath care, meh. It took forever to heal, and I still cannot make an F--my middle finger will only get up to about 45 degrees. (I can still flip people off though, so it's all good)
|The letter F|
While that was healing I cut off the pad of my left index finger. My razor knife slipped off at an angle that just fit under the fingernail, reached about halfway across and sliced off just shy of an inch. What I learned = there are at least three arteries in there. Also, nothing about knife safety. Try to type when you can't lift your right fingers and your left ones are in a big splint. Hilarity!
(On the plus side, this has done wonders for my guitar playing. If you have trouble using your pinky you could try this)
Update, I did go to a doctor for that. What I learned = GO! cats are rattlesnakes with fur.
Things are more or less healed now, my fingertip has regrown to where I can stand to touch the keyboard (pressing on a guitar string, just the thought AAAGHGGH), but every other word has a K in it. Thank god for spellcheck. Well not God god, but the Geeky Old Designers who made it. Why is all this shit happening to me? The blasphemy, d'ya spoze?