Liar, Liar



So, this morning I awoke at 7:45 (from a lovely dream, natch) with the realization that, even if I left right then, I'd be late to work.

I shuffled to the baffoom and set about my morning ablutions, halfheartedly wracking my brain for some...any... not-too-overused excuse. Vauge abdominal distress? Done. Wracking headaches that mysteriously appear and disappear? They'll probably insist I get a cat scan if I drag that one out again.

And then it happens. I slip, just barely catching myself on the edge of the sink. An involuntary 'eep!' escapes my lips.

Brian rushes to the doorway - "You okay?"

"Yup"

"That was quite an 'eep!' you had there."

"Yeah? Well I was startled okay? I could've twisted my... THAT'S IT!!!!!"

Which is why I'm going to have to wear an ace bandage to work tomorrow. Send left-foot limpy vibes my way.


And find it comforting that I'm such a lousy liar. You, gentle reader, will never run afoul of my wicked, weary ways.