Do NOT, for F***'s sake...

...wake me up at 6 am when I'm not prepared to wake up at that time.

See, it's all fine and dandy if you KNOW you have to wake at that time. You set the alarm. Your body automatically sorta programs itself to wake up then. You hear the alarm. You throw clock at wall wake up. End of story.

2 days ago however, my 2nd bro Ed woke me up at 6 am when I usually set the alarm at 6:30 am, slap the snooze button, crawl to switch on the bathroom lights, slither back to bed and only resurfacing back to the real world around 7 am instead. (Though my Mum actually thinks I'm awake by then).

But I digress. So my bro's knock woke me up. Thinking it was an emergency, I leapt out of bed to hurry to the door... ...only to find my leg giving way because I had prob slept in one position throughout the whole night. (Hence my blasted limb going to sleep on me).

I grabbed my table in time to prevent me from kissing the floor, limped to the door, only to find my bro there with a blasted message, "Mum just wants to make sure you're awake."

O_o. WTF?? I slammed the door and was about to stumble back to bed when I saw something red smeared on the doorjamb.

Kanasai. Seems I scraped off a nice piece of my hand when I grabbed the table. Squinted at the blob of blood on my hand and decided brilliantly to go wash it. "OWWWWWWWWWWW!!!". Now if the blood didn't wake me up, the sting when the water made contact sure did.

I slapped on a plaster, and hurriedly got ready for work. Bugger, the cut had to be on my right hand. I'm right-handed, and trying to brush my teeth with my left hand was just plain difficult. Couldn't apply the proper pressure.

For the record, it's also plain impossible for a girl with long hair to wash her hair with one hand.

Needless to say, I was cursing left, right and center for my carelessness. I've got a high tolerance for pain, so I wasn't like crying and fainting, but KNN!! This wound is bloody annoying. Last night, after a succession of changing plasters, I peeked at it...

...only to discover the wound is still red.

Bah. I would have thought it would have dried by now and turned brown or whatever. Then again, considering the scrape is right where my pinky finger connects to my palm, I jarr the wound everytime I even twitch my fingers.

After examining the scrape to make sure it wasn't infected or whatever, I slapped on another plaster...only to discover that was my last 'duckie' plaster!!! (>_<)

Okay so I'm anal. Trust a girl to bother finding plasters that are cute. But I'm out of my 'animal plasters' and it's now making me cranky. I want back my duckies, my rabbits, my tigers and my piggy plasters, and I want 'em now! *rants*

But it's Chinese New Year's eve today, and most of the shops are closed. (T_T)

More importantly, I've been commandeered by my Mum to polish the furniture. Apparently my claim that my wound is life endangering should I do anything strenuous flopped.

Damn.