So, I moved into an apartment that had been on fire only a week before. It had been professionally cleaned, but still, there was a ton of fine black soot in weird places (for example, I had to wash my hangers before I could use them). So, I did a ton of cleaning but the bathroom was more of a prefuntory clean at the time and I hadn't gotten around to anything better. I took a brief glance under the washing machine and saw how badly the drains drained and I knew these things had to be dealt with but I had been ignoring it. This morning, I decided it was time.
And I buggered my ankle fairly comprehensively. Lying on the bed in pain wondering how I was going to teach comprehensively. I sprained it originally two weeks ago tomorrow, after a night at the Loft. That's right, I am admitting to a drinking injury. That said, in a country of sidewalks that are anything but straight and weak ankles, this was bound to happen. I am a klutz. But it was healing until I stood on it in just the wrong way at the end up my cleaning session.
So now I am wearing an extremely sexy ace bandage. But I wanted to wear a skirt out dancing on Saturday, so I am not pleased. I doubt dancing will occur without the bandage on though. Sigh.
Apparently I shouldn't have cleaned...
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