See that beautiful array of purplish colors to your right? See 'em? Bee-yew-tee-full, eh?
That's about the color of the pinky toe on my right foot.
However, looking down at it at this moment (because I'm not wearing a shoe at work because I cannot fit a shoe onto said foot), I'm beginning to see the tell-tale greens and yellows seeping through. That's a good sign, isn't it?
Still hurts like a bad word. A reeeealy bad one. Like one that could make my daddy the sailor blush.
How'd I do this, you ask? How anyone breaks her pinky toe. I slammed my foot into something heavy and somewhat immovable at a high rate of speed. Actually, I don't remember the details. It happened when I was awakened in the middle of the night by a sick child (who later vomited and retched and expelled his guts out for hours...to get some idea of the urgency with which I propelled myself into the living room). I think it was some sort of toy/gadget/device the kid had failed to pick up from the middle of the living room floor. Thing is, it didn't really seem that bad when I did it, or I would've had more vivid memories of it.
All I know is that my wound is ugly and angry looking and it screamed, "nooooooooooo!" when I tried to cover it with a sock and cram it into an athletic shoe last night. I didn't even bother trying this morning. I'm wearing dressy flipflops. And, now that I ponder, I really should've repainted my toenails. Maybe I will tonight. Some shade befitting: maybe "Classy Contusion" or "Burst-vessel Red."
That's about the color of the pinky toe on my right foot.
However, looking down at it at this moment (because I'm not wearing a shoe at work because I cannot fit a shoe onto said foot), I'm beginning to see the tell-tale greens and yellows seeping through. That's a good sign, isn't it?
Still hurts like a bad word. A reeeealy bad one. Like one that could make my daddy the sailor blush.
How'd I do this, you ask? How anyone breaks her pinky toe. I slammed my foot into something heavy and somewhat immovable at a high rate of speed. Actually, I don't remember the details. It happened when I was awakened in the middle of the night by a sick child (who later vomited and retched and expelled his guts out for hours...to get some idea of the urgency with which I propelled myself into the living room). I think it was some sort of toy/gadget/device the kid had failed to pick up from the middle of the living room floor. Thing is, it didn't really seem that bad when I did it, or I would've had more vivid memories of it.
All I know is that my wound is ugly and angry looking and it screamed, "nooooooooooo!" when I tried to cover it with a sock and cram it into an athletic shoe last night. I didn't even bother trying this morning. I'm wearing dressy flipflops. And, now that I ponder, I really should've repainted my toenails. Maybe I will tonight. Some shade befitting: maybe "Classy Contusion" or "Burst-vessel Red."
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