I'm off to give blood this afternoon. This'll be about the 10th time I've done so, and it's kind of a weird thing for me to do.

For a start, I'm very lazy - anything unnecessary or requiring any effort will almost certainly be rejected out of hand, or perhaps carried out poorly right on the deadline with extremely bad grace. I also HATE needles. I hate the tiny little ones for innoculations with a fervent passion. Yet the needle they'll be sticking in my arm today is bigger by several magnitudes. What the fuck?

It's basically because of some rather warped logic on my part. The more I suffer, the more I feel I've done, the greater sense of achievement I get. And while it might involve conquering a fear, I don't actually have to *do* much in order to achieve it. And there's a little bit of milk of human kindness in there too, obv.