Instead, I’ll hurt myself on a gate

So, as a child I had a terrible habbit of pulling the screen door behind me onto my heel, tearing up the skin something shocking. Resulting in tears, blood, and a good bathing in dettol before adding the band-aid.

So, today, leaving work (waaay too late I might add. I’m not used to finishing at 5:45 – I’m government – should be 4:51 dammit!) I have to ulock and relock the big black gate on my way out. So I pull in into my leg. Ouch, that hurt a bit I think as I walk up to my car in the wind. Get into the car, start driving, and take a peek at the heel at the Cotter Road lights. ewwww. Blood on my foot, my panda keds (at least they’re black and red already) and on my black jeans. Gah. I think it started to hurt more when I realised what I’d done to myself.

So, I have unbranded antiseptic, bandaids… and a bottle of wine, which looked so tempting as I wearily queued up at Coles.

I love that Dettol smell. Makes me want to call Mum.