I (heart) my foot

The other day, I woke up to a fairly normal morning. The bright California sunshine scratching my eyelids, the mariachi band version of Shania Twain's "From this moment" playing on my radio alarm clock, and my newly purchased nightguard feeling fuzzy against my bottom lip. I stretched, popped my ankles and toes, and sat up for my first bleary view of the day. 7:15am. (sigh) I slid out of bed and started to walk around the end of it to head to the restroom when "CRACK" something hit the top of my left foot like a hammer. I gasped, paused, and then let out a gravelly swear. I looked down and realized that my toe had caught on the cord of one of my GameCube contollers that had been sitting on the bookcase near my bed. I had dragged it from its perch to pop me right on the bony part of my left foot. It hurt pretty badly. Worse than I would have expected from such an injury. So, I limped into the bathroom and started my day.

Later that day, I looked at the wound and saw that it had swollen up quite a bit. Thoughts of having to get an x-ray and explain that the GameCube had hurt me to the doctor drifted through my head as embarrassment settled in. I decided to ignore it. After about 2 days of discomfort, I forgot about it completely. Then, yesterday, I was telling the story to my roommate and when I produced my foot as evidence, we both gasped. The wound had turned into a perfect heart-shaped bruise (see pic). How bizzare is that!? I'm tempted to get a tattoo there in memory. The good news is that my sensitive (and exceedingly pale) skin tends to hold on to marks for quite a while. So, when flip-flop season begins next month, I can paint my nails purple to match and be very fashionable. Thanks, Nintendo! :)