I tripped over my own enormous foot and fell off a curb, resulting in a torn ligament on top of my foot. Totally not elegant. I went to the ER to make sure nothing was broken, and I don't think the tear is that serious because now, on Sunday, I can kind of slide-limp around the house, but I wont be able to walk Leila to school for a while, and no eliptical for me either.
Can you believe that? I finally get into a work out routine, I'm finally seeing some results, and now my stupid foot is bandaged and I'm going to have to start all over again. The universe is f***ing with me.
The hospital sent me home with crutches, and those are true instruments of torture. On Friday night I took the ice pack off my foot and put it in my arm pits. My whole body is sore, probably from the impact of the fall. Luckily, it happened on a Friday, so Rob was home all weekend and I could just sit with my foot up. I guess its better than being sick. I get to stay in bed all weekend (its the only place I'm truly out off the way) without having to feel miserable and bored. Just bored. I think my dog thinks I'm snubbing him. When I venture out into the house, he kind of glares at me like I've deserted him. I made Rob put him on my lap last night so I could love him up and he wouldn't take it so personally. My foot has gotten a lot better, and hopefully by Thanksgiving I'll be able to stand well enough to make stuffing.
That's my job this year, stuffing. I was thinking of making some barefoot contessa BS where I cut the bread cubes myself and add apples and sausage and sage, but it is Stovetop city instead.