not so happy feet

four days later, my foot still hurts. i have no idea, no idea at all what i've done to it. my theory is that i probably pulled something in it (after all, there's very little i do so well as trip over my own feet; it was only a matter of time before i injured myself doing so), and the fact that i live in a city where you walk or perish, it just hasn't had a chance to recover. i hope to give it that chance tomorrow; i have the day off, and except for a brief jaunt to the optometrist, i have nothing to do. and i plan to use it well. i am going to flollop upon the couch, elevate and ice my foot, and watch lots and lots and lots of cowboy bebop. and i will sleep. and i will read "the woman in white" by wilkie collins. and, most important, i am going to sleep.

sleeeeeeeeeeeep.

sleep is good for exhausted little monkeys such as myself.

of course, there's also the paranoid approach to this whole thing, which says "dear god, go get x-rayed before your foot fuses into pure claw form and you limp for the rest of your life!" which is, for once, probably not a bad idea. as the experts at webmd tell me, it's very possible that i have a stress fracture. but, getting x rays means i have to go to my physician first to get a referral to a podiatrisy, and as we all know, i'd rather eat glass.