Razor blade – to slit wrists for not going through with training for the 5k I was going to do and for finally deciding not to go through with it purely because I am lazy, and shin splints.
Putty knife – to scrape the laundry off of the floor that is scattered through out the house. It's been lying around for weeks, walked over, rolled over, and used as a dog bed and the occasional stepping stool for me. The lines between clean and dirty are blurred. It is definite that none of them are fresh. I don't even remember what the smell of fresh laundry is like. I hear it's nice. I get whiffs off it when I've accidentally wandered down the laundry detergent isle. It's a nice smell, reminds me of baby hippopotamuses.