Incandescently Ridiculous

Before anybody asks, I have no idea why I'm writing in this blog today because I have less than nothing to say. When one's readership is down to approximately four people because of one's tendency to have nothing to write about in one's blog it merely perpetuates the cycle of not wanting to reiterate what one has already talked about in person or experienced with one's devoted readers. Also? Perpetuates using weird pronouns.

Oh, I thought of something: I'm going to lose it if my ankle's sprained again. I don't even have a story to go with it this time; I just stood up at work yesterday and said OW. Say what you will about my klutzish bent but I actually somewhat relish having the "I stepped on my own finger crab-walking and was in a splint for a month" and "I broke my foot walking on dry, level ground" and "I cracked my toe by kicking Craig's bedpost and thus extended my time in the AirCast by about a week" to fall back on as nervous-laughter fodder at parties.

I also have this...nick, I guess? in my IKEA fake wrought-iron footboard and so, when I'm clambering out of bed, if I graze my hand across the wrong spot I tear it open. One guess as to whether or not that happened to me today. (Sidebar: I LOVE HAVING A FOOTBOARD. It makes me feel like I'm all cozy and enclosed and cocooned in my bed. I want a giant sleigh bed when I'm rich and famous).

Bah. I'm going to read journals from when I actually used to be able to write.

-rae