I am sitting in a super important meeting discussing rather trivial things at my workplace (that will remain anonymous because if I told you where it was, I would have to kill you - both of you). The meeting contains several important people and me. It is so interesting that I have started playing with a tiny bit of loose skin on my thumb. It is just by the the nail.

I pull it a bit. It starts to hurt. I pull just a tiny bit more. I now have a big bit of loose skin on my thumb. I sit. I can now play with the skin a lot. I can roll it round in circles. I can pull it ever so slightly more. Wee! This is fun.

Five seconds later, I get bored of this and decide it has now got to the point where the skin has to come off. I pull it more. More skin comes with it. It starts to hurt more. I now have a very large bit of skin hanging off my thumb. I try to bite it off, thinking that if I leave a small flap at the bottom then that will minimise the pain and my eagerness to play with it.

My thumb and nail start to turn a crimson colour which means that either I'm bleeding or someone is spilling strawberry jam on it. Now there is only one thing left to do. The skin needs removing - stat!

Now I am not one of these sick people who likes spending Sunday morning tied to a bed with clothes pins on their nipples and their testicles in a vice while molten wax is poured on them. I don't like pain. But this skin removal will be the most painful thing I have ever experienced since having to sit through "Wes Craven's Wishmaster".

I grab the skin between my finger and my thumb and pull. The pain nearly sends me through the roof. Now there is more blood.

I am now in a meeting with a piece of dead skin in my hand and blood all over my thumb.