So I, in my never-ending quest for grace and poise, fell down some stairs yesterday. I was going down the back flight of stairs at the Center to head to the office to make copies of the Secret Santa instructions, and I wasn't paying attention. In fact, I was reading the sheet I was heading to copy. This in itself was sad, because I wrote it.

So I misstep and end up falling - well more sliding - down the stairs and twisting my foot in the process. I'm really way too hard on my feet and ankles, one of these days they're just going to disown me and go live with some girl who isn't breaking them or spraining them all the time. One good thing though, nobody saw me do it. I guess getting up early is good for something, no sane people are around to see you be a moron.

Now I'm just sore and my right ankle and foot are all bruised up. My pride isn't bruised at all, since I don't have any. Oh, wait, maybe that was shame.


Painful on your feet.
My office is now a box,
For sharp little toys.

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