Broken Toe…again.

Ok, so early this morning (something like 1 or 2), I went downstairs to use the restroom. Not to rest, however, since I’d been sleeping. Anyway, on the way out of the bathroom, there was an small introduction that went something like this:

Left small toe, meet door frame. Door frame, meet small toe.

I’d like to say that I screamed like a girl (not that there is ANYTHING wrong with that at all) and doubled over in agony…but I did not. You see, this particular toe and I have a bit of a history, and this is the 3rd or 4th time I’ve broken it in, oh, let’s estimate at about 4 or 5 years. I think it has an agenda, a vendetta if you will. Or perhaps it is trying the old Confederacy trick of trying to secede. [Either way, it’s obviously been talking to the cats.]

So no screaming or crying–just an “ow, that hurt” because I’ve become accustomed to it. And besides, at least it wasn’t at the 45-degree angle that it was the first time!

Ok, so early this morning (something like 1 or 2), I went downstairs to use the restroom. Not to rest, however, since I’d been sleeping. Anyway, on the way out of the bathroom, there was an small introduction that went something like this: Left small toe, meet door frame. Door frame, meet small toe. I’d…