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.
 
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