My right thumb is now tightly wrapped in tissue paper. Why? Because I cut it on broken shards of a cup.

I am currently feeling very angry. Actually, a whole mix of emotions. I feel ready to cry and throw objects at people at the same time, ranting and raging. Well, the ranting and raging...Check. The crying...Check. The trigger for this would be that I was supposed to have cut my hair already but my mother doesn't seem to remember. You can guess my feelings as you read the post. It's damn obvious. I don't know why I even bother to care. But I do. So I guess that's that. Maybe I'm too close to my period or some shit. Maybe it's the fact that I'm guilty over having gone back to my old habit. Anyhoo, it was further aggravated by my sister who didn't seem to hear or care that I had asked her (with a please.) to help me attend to the sausages on the stove since I was washing the dishes. Then she gave me that tone of voice and that kind of face. Whaddehell?! You never really do anything at home! You shut the FUCK up.

So I slammed one of the cups I was washing down on the counter. Funnily that didn't break. The next one that I had washed and was hanging back on its hook dropped and broke. I cut my right thumb when I was reaching into the murky depths to retrieve the pieces. It didn't help that the water was horrendously dirty and that the cut was deep enough that when I continued to wash the dishes, there was one trail of blood. Not to big, lah. The cut not that deep.

Whaddehell? The cup that I slammed didn't break, but the cup I didn't slam, fell, broke and cut my finger. Well, by the time I finished this post, the bleeding would have stopped...