My busted foot

(Warning to Margaret: this post contains a graphic description of a foot.)

The other day, while playing basketball, I sprained my ankle pretty badly. While I was driving the lane, my friend Jason (who's quite big) moved to block my path. But instead of blocking me, we just tripped each other. He ended up falling on my outstretched foot, spraining my ankle. My foot was so swollen that my loose-fitting flip-flops felt tight.

I hurt my toe too. My fourth toe, right next to my pinky, is about twice its normal size, and purple. The whole toe is purple, like there's no circulation to it. I'm convinced it's going to fall off.

All of yesterday I was hobbling around with a limp. The limp made me look more like a thugged-out wigger* than a cripple. My accidental thuggishness was the silver lining to my physical impairment. But today my ankle hardly hurts at all, and my limp has subsided.

Also, the collision caused me to scrape my knee, elbow and (since I wasn't wearing a shirt) back on the asphalt. Scrapes are a great way to usher in the summer. Nothing says fun like a scab. Sprains, bruises and other sources of dull, prolonged pain are not fun.

Speaking of scabs, I got a job at IBM as a summer temp while they lay off their full time employees in droves. I start Monday. Pithy anecdotes and sardonic criticism of bureaucratic Big Blue to ensue.

* Is 'wigger' a bad word to say since it's punning a racial slur? I hope not.

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