As of last night my eczema (for that is what the pharmacist and I agree it probably is) is so bad right in the wrinkly part of my palm that I've taken to wearing a black satin glove on that hand to stop myself scratching it. Which is making me feel rather eighties, I must admit.
Not to mention how I managed to put my museum security pass through the wash in my jeans pocket. The electronics still work! It's just that the plastic's all kind of melted. It's all very Tate Modern, but I feel a fool wearing it around the place. Possibly not so much of a fool as wearing one glove, though. (My officemate hasn't given me funny looks yet, but he's French so what're you going to do?)
And I think registration's going smoothly for this year. And money's not quite a worry yet. So I think apart from the moronic,. I'm doing OK.