No, REALLY badly. As in "some are less than 1/8" collections of ragged stubs stuck in beds of alternating bleeding pulp and sharp jags of abnormally hardened skin that was never meant to touch air."*
Anyhoo, those aforementioned spears of skin can sneak up on a person. I mean, my fingers are normally pretty painful on a day-to-day basis. I cracked a joke a few years back that I'm the Little Mermaid of programmers.** So yeah, a little extra pain or weirdness isn't something I tend to notice.
This afternoon I got a random itch in the small of my back. As you do, I reached back with one hand and went *scritcha scritcha scritcha*. Although in this case it was *scritcha scritcha scr-*"OW OW FUCK WHAT?!"
Yup, said pointy bonelike flesh shard managed to gouge about a dozen runnels in my back before my nervous system managed to scream "WHOA THERE NELLIE CENOBITE, THIS SHITE AIN'T COOL!" So now I've got twelve-and-a-bit deep, slightly bleeding gouges straight up and down in the small of my back. They're kind of impressive looking, actually. Almost purposeful, in their claw-slash-like manner.
As I was looking at them in the mirror, the back part of my brain piped up: It's the Official Tramp Stamp of Team Jacob!
Aaaaaaannnnd I'm done. G'night folks!
*Which is why when a doctor tells me any of my health problems "might be stress... do you have any?" I tend to giggle like a loon.
** You know, the whole thing about every step on dry land would feel like she was walking on knives? All right, put down the DVD and go read the actual story, you people with the blank looks!