Hail and lighter

Reinvigorated by yesterday's burst of courage, and having had only one whiskey last night, I woke up feeling really quite chipper.  Keen to strike me down before I could become accustomed to such sensations however, the day proceeded to bombard me with blight after blight, until here I find myself, soaked through to the skin and bleeding from the head.

First it was the lighter on the way to work.  I was attempting to light a cigarette just outside of an underpass that had formed into an effective wind tunnel and, just about succeeding, I congratulated myself.  Then a huge gust of wind caught me by surprise and whipped the lighter from my hands to send it plummeting to my feet.  In bending down to retrieve it, my still-walking foot connected and booted it ten feet along the pavement and into the road, where it was struck by an oncoming car.  I thought initially to attempt to salvage the wreckage, but when I saw three separate pieces still skidding down the road, I realised all was lost, and continued on my way, lighterless.

The morning at work was uneventful, but in the afternoon I go gardening with some of the students as part of their work experience.  They're a lovely bunch, for the most part, all special needs, and I do enjoy a spot of gardening so this is generally a charming way to round off Friday afternoon.

But then the weather came.  I was happily weeding away with a student beneath the cool but shining sun, when it suddenly began to rain.  Within mere seconds, the rain had metamorphosised to hail and all sorts of terrible cries rose up as we were struck by the stones.  Foolishly, I had positioned myself directly behind the student, and was still on my hands and knees in weeding position.  In surprise at the sudden hail, he reeled backwards, spade in hand, and unintentionally clobbered me over the head with the metal end.  It was a blinding pain and my hands slithered from beneath me, leaving me face down in the dirt with my eye rapidly filling with blood as the rain washed it down from my head.  In their desire to get to shelter, the students ran, leaving me to die in the dirt, alone.

Somehow, I managed to rouse myself, and tottered back to the building streaked with mud and blood and swiftly developing a quite severe case of hypothermia, where I was greeted with some sympathy and placed in a chair.  In a touching act of kindness, one of the students (not the one who had nearly decapitated me - he was nowhere to be seen) made me a cup of coffee.  I was grateful, but it was alas the most monstrous cup of coffee I have ever tasted.  It was like it had been flavoured with rats.  Of course I drank it regardless, because one simply does not reject a coffee made by a special needs student unless one wishes to appear an Abject Cunt.

On the way home I invested in a new lighter, and was thrilled to discover I had arrived just in time to acquire the very last one.  But my excitement soon died when I realised that the lighter was only left over because it was quite abhorrent to behold, and I will be forever ashamed to lend it to someone else.  I have featured it below.

Now the bulk of the day is over and I hope that the horror is over too.  I have however, been struck with a sudden case of uncommonly itchy face.  Never a moment's peace.

The new lighter, plus a sneak preview of one of my ladies' razors.