It's always a little disconcerting to realise that you must have sliced your throat open the night before, but not remember how it happened. While washing my face this morning, I discovered a thin, inch and a half cut running down my neck, but can't for the life of me think where I got it from (although perhaps my memory of last night is a little blurred.

Even so, I don't remember having a schizophrenic episode and holding knife to my throat and threatening to kill "him", although stranger things have happened. Or maybe I was attacked by werewolves on the way home late last night. Yeah, that must be it…