I was going to post about my impending move (it's now Monday the 11th!), the start of my dark Victorian Lovecraftian clockpunk fantasy novella, updates on the first short story I wrote this year, blah blah... All that changed when I walked into my freakishly large kitchen and manged to stub my toe.

And rip half a toenail off.

And scream real hard.

And fall to the floor, sobbing and howling like a baby.

And look down to see the toe (next to the eensy toe) on my left foot all bloody and pulpy.

And see half a toenail dangling from my toe.

And momentarily black out in shock.

And come to still sobbing and howling like a REALLY FUCKING ANGRY BABY IN PAIN.

Many packs of ice and some aspirin later, I've somewhat recovered. I'm pretty sure I didn't break it - I can walk around, and it doesn't hurt that much anymore. However, Clovertoe is now quite swollen, and in Stage Two of PAIN, which is the Throbbing Pulsing Stage. It's still very bloody and gross, but I'm not touching it. I think it's time to crawl into bed, elevate my foot, and read until I fall asleep. And another exciting Friday in the Big City sputters to an end...