Sunday, March 11, 2007


As much as I may whine about it sometimes, I really do enjoy my alone-ness. There's something really liberating about not having to live my life as though it revolves around another person's schedule, no having to check "our" schedules to see if I can go out and do something "I" want to do, etc.

But tonight, I remembered the downside of the whole alone thing.

I got home from a wonderful night out with friends (the first night out in a while), and conveniently forgot that my parking lot is a sheet of ice. (You would think that I would've remembered, since it took me an hour and a half earlier today to dig my car out of said ice.) I'm happily strolling across the lot into my apartment when I slip on the black ice.

Like, cartoon character-style legs-over-head slip.

And then land with a crack - except this cracking wasn't the ice.

I can still feel my toes...but barely. There's this pain shooting up and down my leg right now, but it's not like a muscle pain or a bruise. It's more like someone's taking tiny needles and poking my bone really, really fast over a space of about six inches. And what sucks is that I can't get off the couch to go into the bathroom to get the peroxide to clean out the giant scrape on my elbow that also resulted from the aforementioned fall. (What's awesome is that I cut my elbow through a thick wool coat, a wool sweater, and a long-sleeved t-shirt.) And since it's 1:15 (2:15, depending on when it is we exactly spring forward tonight) on a Sunday morning, it's not like I have a lot of friends around that are free to, like, help me in case I pass out at some point in the night.

If I were in a lighter mood, I'd joke about how this is just further proof that I need to move back down south where it's warm. But...this really, really isn't funny. Rather, it's just me coming to the sad realization that maybe, just maybe, I can't do everything on my own.

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