A state of continual pointing

Today I paid my tax. This is not, to most people, something that needs to be remarked upon, but it is a week’s work for me owing largely to incompetence, so I allow myself a short period of joy. Unfortunately in my post-tax-payment euphoria I sustained a small cut on my finger by removing a…

Today I paid my tax. This is not, to most people, something that needs to be remarked upon, but it is a week’s work for me owing largely to incompetence, so I allow myself a short period of joy.

pointing idiot

Unfortunately in my post-tax-payment euphoria I sustained a small cut on my finger by removing a carrot from the vegetable rack with excessive enthusiasm. It is a very minor injury, so you do not really need to send sympathy via the comments. Just be warned though, readers at home – watch out for sharp corners on your vegetable rack, particularly when removing carrots.

As a result of my very minor injury and the oversized plaster that was applied to the length of my finger I have been in a state of constant pointing throughout the evening. Fortunately pointing around the home is harmless enough, and is even quite fun for the first ten or fifteen minutes. There’s no harm in being a domestic pointer. I can only assume that people at my church home group have come to expect me to be pointing continually at the Bible throughout the in-depth study as no-one remarked upon it. (Did I tell you I go to a church home group by the way? Yes indeed. Thursday nights. I enjoy it.)

If I am still in a state of continual pointing tomorrow I may have to avoid social situations where pointing would be inadvisable. I’m sure there must be some. In the bank perhaps. People don’t like you to do a lot of pointing in a bank. It is just something that goes without saying in the same way that you don’t wear a balaclava into a bank or give people funny looks.

I’m rambling – good night.