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Typing with a splinted finger is all you imagine it to be and more! This is going to do wonders for my speed at work.
We left the house at 10.30 and returned at 2.30. Admittedly had we not hit the big Waitrose in North Finchley we could have shaved a half hour off that, but it was still a lot of waiting for a five minute procedure. Still, with deaf octogenarians needing their glass eyes screwed back in and toddlers who have received repeat injuries to their heads, waiting to have a gammy finger fixed isn't so bad in the great scheme of things. I have to go back next week to wait for several more hours while they decide if anything else needs doing. I can get used to these four-day working weeks.
Nonetheless, I declare myself disappointed.
I have a plastic finger-encasing splint held in place with tape. Where, oh where is the shiny digit case, the flashing LEDs and the laser emitter? Why will it not jam radio frequencies, allow me to flick peanuts like bullets across a bar? Should I not, in all fairness, be able to pass an electric current through it and turn invisible? In short, where is the 21st century the comics of my childhood promised me?
Why do have this overwhelming urge to scratch the finger now it is inaccessible?
We left the house at 10.30 and returned at 2.30. Admittedly had we not hit the big Waitrose in North Finchley we could have shaved a half hour off that, but it was still a lot of waiting for a five minute procedure. Still, with deaf octogenarians needing their glass eyes screwed back in and toddlers who have received repeat injuries to their heads, waiting to have a gammy finger fixed isn't so bad in the great scheme of things. I have to go back next week to wait for several more hours while they decide if anything else needs doing. I can get used to these four-day working weeks.
Nonetheless, I declare myself disappointed.
I have a plastic finger-encasing splint held in place with tape. Where, oh where is the shiny digit case, the flashing LEDs and the laser emitter? Why will it not jam radio frequencies, allow me to flick peanuts like bullets across a bar? Should I not, in all fairness, be able to pass an electric current through it and turn invisible? In short, where is the 21st century the comics of my childhood promised me?
Why do have this overwhelming urge to scratch the finger now it is inaccessible?