As a result of one of those completely stupid series of events, I sprained my ankle today. (The xrays were not conclusive because I was shivering when they did them, but there's no displacement of any bones, so the treatment is the same regardless of whether the ankle is broken or sprained.)
There's a long story here, including amorous goats and forty-four year old women trying (unsuccessfully) to climb over gates to save said goat, but they gave me morphine at the hospital and a prescription for jumbo Vicodin, so I'm a little on the slow side right now.
So I'm lying here in the family room on the couch, ankle propped up and head a little swimmy. I thought I could write more, but I was wrong.
All sympathetic ooh-aahs will be very much appreciated.