I think human beings should have some kind of peripheral alarm system that alerts them when their limbs and appendages are too close to walls, corners and furniture. I fail to see why my body can't let me know in some loud and annoying fashion that my baby toe is too close to the hallway corner, and then give me time to rectify the situation. You know, before my toe slams into said corner, and I spend five minutes trying not to cry, and the following three hours with a constant ache. In fact, the toe still hurts like hell, and I don't anticipate it feeling better before the morning, or even before Friday. I wouldn't be surprised if I lose the toenail. I think I smacked it head-on, and that's never a good thing. A glancing blow is always preferable. I just checked the toe, and it's still super sore to the investigative touch, but it's not purple or the size of a golf ball or anything. That's good, right?
I had hoped to get a pedicure tomorrow, but now I'm all nervous. I will, of course, get the pedi, but if the nail drops off during my callous remover treatment, I'll be super grossed out.
And I refuse to post a pic of my toe, because it needs a pedicure, so I found a pretty, pink flower instead.
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