Papercuts may very well be my most hated sort of body pain. The day after exercise? Not even close, because you already have the expectation that you are going to hurt the next day. Papercuts attack you unsuspected, like a tiger hiding in your hydrangeas.
Now we are not talking about a papercut that you would get on a flimsy piece of copier paper, for example. This was like a slash from thick cardstock. It looked like an innocent piece of mail y'all. How did I know that stationery in general would exact its justice against all of the people that judiciously slash through envelopes with knives by hurting little old me? I'm quite sure the pain is what a cesarean would feel like without anesthesia, and yes, those of you without humor, I am childless. Please type your righteous indignation in the comment area provided.
The worst part is that the wound is on my favorite finger, the right index. That is my pointing finger, my mouse finger, my itch the nose finger. Oh the horror! I may have to just go home from work and file the workers compensation papers.