Thank God It's Friday?

Today was never-ending. It's not that time stood still, rather it went too quickly. Either way, today seemed a long time in finishing. In fact technically it's still going on.

I was only supposed to go in from 6-9am to get the baking underway for Saturday but it was lunchtime by the time I got out.

My parting move was to slice my thumb open with a knife I wasn't even using to slice things with (I was drying it, blade-side up, never a good look). It actually felt like slicing through raw chicken breast, such was the pressure I applied. So ensued much persistent blood and my body's inconvenient inability to STOP bleeding (for which, by the way, sister doctor's diagnosis is to eat parsley - though there's only so much of that green stuff you can eat and you never have any to hand, do you? Though I think she means to eat it generally within diet, not specifically as and when you cut yourself).

When you inflict some kind of stupid wound to yourself, a sympathetic nod can make all the difference, can't it? I received precisely one (smart-arse) comment about distraction and another horrified mutter of disgust. I had to go outside and find my own sympathy from a customer and a dog.

So here I am, back home, thumb wrapped in three plasters which are cutting off any remaining blood supply. Can just about type. Just about keeping eyes open. It's quite late.

Seen as you lot have eaten all the rhubarb & orange compote I've been called in half an hour earlier tomorrow morning to make another batch before you turn up for breakfast and find we've run out... That's how things like that never happen, you see.