Last night I'm sitting with M, trying to scarf down a quick dinner before I have to head out for class. You know how you kind of slide your feet to the side of you chair when you it back, pushing along the floor? Well, I slide my chair back as I go to get up from the table and the front legs left up a little bit. One of which proceeds to slam down, with me putting a good deal of my weight back into the chair seat, right dead center in the middle of my fucking big toe. It went something like this:
"Alright honey, I better get gAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!"
"Oh my god!", M says as I beginning frantically hopping around the dining room, on the verge of tears. "What happened?!?"
In between gasps of pain, I explain how I'd managed to put myself into this current state. In response, she starts laughing so hard that she starts crying. Such support I tell you, it's heart-warming.
"I can't...I mean...how could you manage to pull something like that off?! I can't believe what a klutz you are!"
So off to school I go. I can tell you, there's nothing quite like the feeling of biking along and feeling your sock soak up blood and being to bleed into your shoe.
It gets even better. After I got home, we had to clean up after the TerrorMutt tore into one of his beds. And three guesses as to who's g/f blasted his previously injured big toe with the vacuum cleaner?
On the plus side, it looks gruesome as hell under the there from all the blood and I'll probably lose the nail.