I'm in such an irritable mood today that I've half a mind not to write anything. Can anything written in an irritable mood be any good anyway?
I did something very odd almost as soon as I woke up in the morning - before I even got downstairs. There I was, walking downstairs in no perceptively different manner, when I hit my right foot against the back of my left one. What followed was a sharp, burning pain; and blood seeping out from under my toenail.
I had, for all intents and purposes, stubbed my toe rather badly against the back of my other leg, which as you can tell, is ridiculous.
To make this sounds more ridiculous, there was no perceptible injury whatsoever on the other leg. You wouldn't have thought pliant flesh would survive such an assault by something like a nail (made of considerably sterner stuff) completely unscathed, but that's what happened.
I'm convinced that this is some miracle of physics.
It still hurts all the time - a sort of tender throbbing that's almost ticklish. I'm still hobbling everywhere, and my brother is still very curious about my toe-injury, and exceedingly apologetic when he does anything to injure it. Like poke it.
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