(no subject)
Dec. 20th, 2011 09:26 pmYesterday was my last day at Key Enterprises. It is a charity for people with mental health problems; it provides routine and teaches various skills. I have been going there for a little over two years - during that time I have met quite a few people, learned how to refinish furniture, taught myself pyrography, and improved in terms of mental health. Unfortunately they have lost funding and are closing; I decided not to attend this Thursday as I am going up to Aberdeen, so yesterday was my last day. I gave people cards, and left cards and small presents for the other two still attending my department, who are not in on Mondays. I was given a few cards and a small bunch of flowers, which was very nice. I walked out with two carrier bags full of stuff - books, material, bits of wood; with a stitch-picker in one pocket and a dozen nails in the other. And I knew it was coming but I am still sad and kind of confused.
Today I have been doing very little - I skipped my evening class, again, but I will go back in January and do my best not to miss another time. But this year my present-making has branched out into woodwork, so I have just been doing that, and managed to injure myself. If I had sanded my knuckles, or hit my hand with a hammer, or cut myself with a stanley knife or a saw or whatever, I would not have been surprised. But I cut myself with a drill.
Cut yourself with a drill, you say? How in the world did you manage that?
Well, it was a good drill, and a not-so-good drill bit. I was working on top of a big wooden toolbox, holding the wood in place with my foot (it is a two-handed drill). And as I attempted to drill a second hole right next to the first, the drill slipped, the tip hit the work surface, the bit bent, and as the drill wound down, the tip of the whirling drill bit caught my foot. It bled.
I should have bought myself a vice before I started. Or at least been wearing shoes.
Today I have been doing very little - I skipped my evening class, again, but I will go back in January and do my best not to miss another time. But this year my present-making has branched out into woodwork, so I have just been doing that, and managed to injure myself. If I had sanded my knuckles, or hit my hand with a hammer, or cut myself with a stanley knife or a saw or whatever, I would not have been surprised. But I cut myself with a drill.
Cut yourself with a drill, you say? How in the world did you manage that?
Well, it was a good drill, and a not-so-good drill bit. I was working on top of a big wooden toolbox, holding the wood in place with my foot (it is a two-handed drill). And as I attempted to drill a second hole right next to the first, the drill slipped, the tip hit the work surface, the bit bent, and as the drill wound down, the tip of the whirling drill bit caught my foot. It bled.
I should have bought myself a vice before I started. Or at least been wearing shoes.