I'll Talk!

There I was, sitting in front of my computer and thinking about what I might write. You hear talk about what agony it is to stare at a blank page and not be able to come up with anything. In my experience, pressing like that is no way to come up with an idea. You've got to relax and wait for it to come to you. On this occasion, fortune smiled on me indeed, although it came in a form that I perhaps might have done without.

I was deep in thought, but a sharp sensation wrenched me out of it. It was pain, and I quickly traced it to my toe. Had I stubbed it? It seemed the most likely thing, but the pain was not of that nature. Wisely, I lifted my foot up to make a diagnosis. It was a quick one. There jutting out from underneath the toenail was a rather large splinter. I do apologize for the graphic nature of this, but I'm sure you appreciate that glossing over it would help nothing.

I tested the splinter, and found that it hurt a bit to move it. I immediately thought about that infamous torture method of slipping reeds under the nail. It is said to have been awfully effective at provoking the victim into becoming more communicative, although what they say now is that torture and hard interrogation tends to simply make someone say what they believe you want to hear. Here I was, accidentally torturing myself.

I steeled my nerves, and extracted the splinter. I feared the worst, but found that the pain was minimal. An ache did persist for a bit, but it's not the sort of thing that would compel me to give up critical secrets. I subsequently determined that the splinter had come from one of the wooden legs of my chair. This was a real wake-up call, and I resolved afresh to get a proper office chair as I had once before. This chair is nice enough, but enough is enough.