Ah, Monday, bright shiny day, start of a new week, full of hope and promise.
Until you wake up.
Or are woken up 3 times by a dog with a rotten stomach. Then you get home, try taking off your pants (one leg at a time) and immediately slam your foot into the corner of a wall, slide it down to the 3/4″ protrusion of baseboard and rip a quarter sized chunk out of it.
Yep. That was Monday. The picture ain’t pretty. That circle of flesh is holding on for dear life by the tiniest of left-over hinges.
Son of a bitch hurt a lot too, and I limped for the first half of the day.
Dog’s fine though. Chris called me “stoic” at least 4 times, mainly because I didn’t scream or cry when it happened. I’m such a trooper.