I just got home last night from a week-long hiatus in America. I was going to postpone writing about it until I could get pictures up, but this has been the worst first 24 hours back in a place ever.
Despite my JETlag, I woke up on time. That is when things stopped going right. From that point I worked for 11 hours straight. Then I came home and was so exhausted I didn't move for 3 hours. Come 10:00 when it was finally so late that I had to get up if I wanted to score some dinner, I began to mobilize and promptly jammed my finger into an old wood door frame in my apartment, shoving a shard of wood all the way down to the root of my 5th digit fingernail. Taking a second to process what had actually happened, I realized I was in for an unpleasant little bit of time.
I pulled out the splinter but half of it remained, now buried safely underneath the nail completely. I saw the blood start to pool up under the surface where the bigger part of the spliner had been. I knew things were about to get worse before they got better. I called up my girlfriend to whom I couldn't exactly explain the situation over the phone, so I covered my pinky with a paper towel and drove over to her house, yelling "fuck!" the whole way.
She realized what I was talking about at that point and took me to the hospital, where a kind young doctor informed me that they were going to have to break away the nail. For the next half hour or so, I sat face up while the doctor scratched away the cartilage of my nail with a sterile sewing needle of sorts. Eventually he got most of that sucker out with tweezers. I was bandaged up and sent on my way.
Thanks for the welcome home, Japan. Fuck you.