March 26th, 2004

The gentleman is always properly dressed

More proof that nigh on anything can be a weapon

This morning I woke up with what I think was a splinter of a down feather rib stuck in my finger. It never occurred to me that my down pillows could be dangerous*, but I got stuck good enough to warrant an iodine dousing.

Bloody nuisance.

I probably would have weathered it better had my sleep been a little less tormented. No work today, my pretties. I seem to be suffering from the same affliction as J-.

* least not without the direct action of an outside agent with a taste for smothering.