I track new bruises regularly (because I get them regularly, you see), trying to recall the event that left its mark on my body. Frequently I do not remember so I make something up. The made-up things often involve a chandelier.

Some I do remember. DSis has a back door that lives to crash closed on body parts. The handle is cleverly designed to gouge forearms, mid-backs, and unsuspecting knuckles caught in the quick-closing door jam.

No, I am not providing pictures, but I wish I did photograph the progression of some of my bruises. Like the cat attack, the puppy face-plant (wait – I did show some of that), or the moving marks created when my department moved upstairs (I cannot claim compensation for it was clearly forbidden to heft those boxes, but the alternative was being unable to work AT ALL which I simply could NOT deal with). That activity left marks that you could almost make out a few constellations.

Bruise Rorschach tests could be a new field of exploration. I could be a moving, mobile exhibit… um, wait… not all of the bruises are in publicly viewable areas. My arse and upper thighs are grey areas but more for your sensibilities than my own. I seem to have misplaced my sensibilities a while back…

The latest bruise conundrum is a trail of three fingertip-shaped bruises on my thigh. I have no clue what I did that caused them. I hope it was fun. I wish I knew…

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