It's a crazy time of year for me at work. I'm averaging 14 hour days, hand-bombing half a dozen skids per day, serving thousands of customers, answering the same 20 questions repeatedly all day, and my body feels like I've just gone ten rounds in the ring caught between with Dolph Lundgren and Sylvester Stallone in Rocky IV.
Here's my left hand, showing five of the recently aquired battle scars. (A couple of them, from last week, are starting to heal nicely -- these are mostly the result of skin being ripped off while opening boxes, cardboard cuts (sometimes worse than papercuts), a slash from a box cutter that hadn't been properly retracted (across my two middle fingers) and my finger getting pinned between two boxes (oops, can't see that one because it's on the face-down side of the pink)
Symptomatic of the way the rest of my body feels.
In short -- ouch . . . can't wait for the September Rush to be over and I can go back to working 10 hour days and stop racking up quite as many injuries.