(no subject)

Only me.

Mum and dad dropped me off at their storage unit this morning to sort through some stuff I'd left and pack a box to take home. I also planned to throw out a few things.

On my way to the dumpster I stumbled and fell. I may have broken my ankle. Right now I'm sitting on a chair from storage icing my ankle with the ice pack that I laughed at mum for sending along.

And the motion sensor activated lights just went out.

But I'm fine! They'll be here soon and...find me crippled and defenceless in the dark.

Mum is going to shriek...

(no subject)

I'm home and safe, elevating and icing -- Dad was an orthotist for years, so he's reasonably confident the bone isn't broken, but once the swelling goes down we'll know a bit more. For those reading this on a mirror (DW/IJ/JF), I phone-posted here about what happened.

It hurts kind of a lot so I'm keeping this short and just going to sit back and not pay attention to my foot.

IRONIC ICON IS SUPER IRONIC.

(no subject)

Just getting done at urgent care. Broke my ankle. Go me? I'm getting a boot and crutches.

Ow.

(no subject)

I am home, and would have posted sooner if I weren't on the good drugs and trying to keep my parents from FREAKING OUT, jesus, calm the fuck down. I'm going to slip them some of Lortab they gave me.

For those of you who are reading on a mirror, I phone-posted again from Urgent Care that my leg was in fact broken. Hairline fracture of the tibia. I get a bitchin' black boot and a pair of crutches.

THIS IS SUCH BULLSHIT, I hate my ankles right now.

I've called work and extended my time off through Thursday. I've found a leg doctor in Chicago who I'm going to be seeing next Monday. Now all I need to do is bite the bullet and pay the $300 or so that it's going to cost to change my ticket from tomorrow to anytime-before-Monday.

This is going to make getting to and from work...problematic. The El isn't very forgiving on the handicapped.

This Post Is All About Jack Harkness.

Looks like Jack's been taking ideas from LOLDogs again.

Or the reverse; perhaps he's in some kind of sympathetic mental communication with the dogs of the world and they unconsciously obey his commands. I wouldn't put it past him to be honest. It explains why they universally spurn Hart and why Max continues to answer to Theresa as well.

Don't even ask; I've already started devising a test.

Talking of...Y SO SPARKLY, boss?

(no subject)

Well, work knows not to expect me back until Friday, the plane is rescheduled until Thursday, and the shuttle from the airport home is similarly rescheduled. I've set aside my Big Suitcase and will just be taking my laptop bag and smallish clothing bag with me. Mum is exhausted after her day of Constant Fretting.

I called R this evening to see if he was willing to let me bunk at his place for a while, because he's on the first floor and there's a laundry machine and a dishwasher and stuff.

Sam: *glut of information about breaking his ankle*
R: So...when you come home, I'm giving you lessons.
Sam: Lessons?
R: Yeah, like this: you move your right foot first, then your left. Right, left, about two inches off the ground is the standard...
Sam: OH SO FUNNY.
R: I'll buy you some herbal remedy.
Sam: I'll cook you anything I can sit down to cook.

I think secretly he's pleased, he misses my stabilising influence in his life. I'll probably be at his place for a week or so, depending.

Obviously this puts a cramp in some of my plans for the week -- I can't fix the typos in Nameless nor can I mail out the last of this wave of signed copies until Friday at the earliest. On the other hand, I get two extra days with my family, which is nice. Sort of. Mum's kind of high strung about the whole broken-bones thing. Which is why I snuck off on the pretence of going to bed, so that I could make a post.

Also we watched Castle tonight. It has very funny moments, but I kept getting distracted by the creepy look of the thing. All the women are heavily over-made-up, not so much with lipstick or eyeliner or whatnot but with base. To a one they lack even the intimation of pores and look bizarrely unwrinkled, unnaturally so even for network primetime television. I don't ordinarily notice things like this, but I couldn't help be a little unnerved by the super-smooth expressionless masks they all had. Especially Castle's teenage daughter.

And I know that crime shows aren't always known for their veracity, but it stretched my ability to suspend disbelief that a random untrained novelist is so completely accepted in a homicide unit that he's allowed to be present at the interrogation of suspects and actually take part in it. I find the concept of the show charming, but I'm not won over yet.

Bed now. This Lortab stuff is not all that effective, to be honest. I suspect I will not get a great night's sleep tonight.

Also GIP if you're seeing this on LJ. never_ender made this for me and I have titled it "Injury and fail".