On January 25, at about 3:30, I was probably on here, but not posting. Then I went shopping. Then I caught some sleep and went to work until 6am. I then attempted to sleep but my son decided he would not be sleeping, and therefore neither would I. That entire ordeal is a scrambled mix of bad cartoons, waffles, chocolate milk, and possibly checking in on here (along with cnn and my email, the only three places I currently frequent daily). My computer was soon taken over by other people as I attempted sleep. An hour later I heard a girl screaming, turned out to be my son. I was awake again. Then my ankle landed hard on the edge of a chair. The pain was extreme, which ice seemed to intensify. I decided to take it easy while lying on the couch with my foot propped up. The pain eventually subsided, I think it's just a bruise. It doesn't hurt to walk on it, but there's still a small stinging pain sensation. I don't like doctors or hospitals, but I will go if someone believes there's good enough reason to.
And now I'm here, explaining to you how tramatically boring my weekend really has been.
