Brave little soldier

I am an infected. Somehow I have managed to get a bit of dirt under my fingernail and the tip of my finger has swollen up and I look like ET.

My all-knowlegable husband told me it's called a whitlow and then proceeded to attack me with a sterilised needle to get the fluid out. Bastard. I'm now on antibiotics but got to spend the whole of yesterday with my finger all bandaged up, not able to type or use my mouse. It was great. If nobody had pitied me or stroked my hair for five minutes I got to shout at them until they made me a cup of tea. I love being a cripple.

Shell shocked

Yesterday I saw The Last King of Scotland at the cinema. It's a very good film but was one of those ones which leaves you feeling really anxious afterwards. So my husband, in his infinite wisdom, decided that the best thing to do was to go home and watch Dawn of the Dead. Oh my god. I had the strangest dreams last night of being attacked by zombies sent by the president of Uganda.
Today I'm going to stay in my pyjamas and watch Ice Age with my teddy bear until balance is once again restored in the Meg household.